,,the ,,principles ,,of ,,aesthetics ,,by ,,dewitt ,h4 ,,parker ,,professor ,,of ,,philosophy ,,in ,,the ,,university ,,of ,,michigan ,,preface ,this book has grown out of lectures to students at the ,university of ,michigan and embodies my effort to express to them the nature and meaning of art4 ,in writing it1 ,i have sought to maintain scientific accuracy1 yet at the same time to preserve freedom of style and something of the inspiration of the subject4 ,while intended primarily for students1 the book will appeal generally1 ,i hope1 to people who are interested in the intelligent appreciation of art4 ,my obligations are extensive1--most directly to those whom ,i have cited in foot-notes to the text1 but also to others whose influence is too indirect or pervasive to make citation profitable1 or too obvious to make it necessary4 ,for the broader philosophy of art1 my debt is heaviest1 ,i believe1 to the artists and philosophers during the period from ,herder to ,hegel1 who gave to the study its greatest development1 and1 among contemporaries1 to ,croce and ,lipps4 ,in addition1 ,i have drawn freely upon the more special investigations of recent times1 but with the caution desirable in view of the very tentative character of some of the results4 ,to ,mrs4 ,robert ,m4 ,wenley ,i wish to express my thanks for her very careful and helpful reading of the page proof4 ,the appended bibliography is1 of course1 not intended to be in any sense adequate1 but is offered merely as a guide to further reading2 a complete bibliography would itself demand almost a volume4 ,,contents ,,chapter ,i4 ,introduction3 ,purpose and ,method ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,the ,definition of ,art ,,chapter ,,iii4 ,the ,intrinsic ,value of ,art ,,chapter ,,iv4 ,the ,analysis of the ,aesthetic ,experience3 ,the ,elements of the ,experience ,,chapter ,v4 ,the ,analysis of the ,aesthetic ,experience3 ,the ,structure of the ,experience ,,chapter ,,vi4 ,the ,problem of ,evil in ,aesthetics1 and ,its ,solution through the ,tragic1 ,pathetic1 and ,comic ,,chapter ,,vii4 ,the ,standard of ,taste ,,chapter ,,viii4 ,the ,aesthetics of ,music ,,chapter ,,ix4 ,the ,aesthetics of ,poetry ,,chapter ,x4 ,prose ,literature ,,chapter ,,xi4 ,the ,dominion of ,art over ,nature3 ,painting ,,chapter ,,xii4 ,the ,dominion of ,art over ,nature3 ,sculpture ,,chapter ,,xiii4 ,beauty in the ,industrial ,arts3 ,architecture ,,chapter ,,xiv4 ,the ,function of ,art3 ,art and ,morality ,,chapter ,,xv4 ,the ,function of ,art3 ,art and ,religion ,,bibliography ,,the ,,principles ,,of ,,aesthetics ,,chapter ,i ,,introduction3 ,,purpose ,,and ,,method ,although some feeling for beauty is perhaps universal among men1 the same cannot be said of the understanding of beauty4 ,the average man1 who may exercise considerable taste in personal adornment1 in the decoration of the home1 or in the choice of poetry and painting1 is at a loss when called upon to tell what art is or to explain why he calls one thing beautiful and another ugly4 ,even the artist and the connoisseur1 skilled to produce or accurate in judgment1 are often wanting in clear and consistent ideas about their own works or appreciations4 ,here1 as elsewhere1 we meet the contrast between feeling and doing1 on the one hand1 and knowing1 on the other4 ,just as practical men are frequently unable to describe or justify their most successful methods or undertakings1 just as many people who astonish us with their fineness and freedom in the art of living are strangely wanting in clear thoughts about themselves and the life which they lead so admirably1 so in the world of beauty1 the men who do and appreciate are not always the ones who understand4 ,very often1 moreover1 the artist and the art lover justify their inability to understand beauty on the ground that beauty is too subtle a thing for thought4 ,how1 they say1 can one hope to distill into clear and stable ideas such a vaporous and fleeting matter as ,aesthetic feeling8 ,such men are not only unable to think about beauty1 but skeptical as to the possibility of doing so1--contented mystics1 deeply feeling1 but dumb4 ,however1 there have always been artists and connoisseurs who have striven to reflect upon their appreciations and acts1 unhappy until they have understood and justified what they were doing2 and one meets with numerous art-loving people whose intellectual curiosity is rather quickened than put to sleep by just that element of elusiveness in beauty upon which the mystics dwell4 ,long acquaintance with any class of objects leads naturally to the formation of some definition or general idea of them1 and the repeated performance of the same type of act impels to the search for a principle that can be communicated to other people in justification of what one is doing and in defense of the value which one attaches to it4 ,thoughtful people cannot long avoid trying to formulate the relation of their interest in beauty1 which absorbs so much energy and devotion1 to other human interests1 to fix its place in the scheme of life4 ,it would be surprising1 therefore1 if there had been no ,shelleys or ,sidneys to define the relation between poetry and science1 or ,tolstoys to speculate on the nature of all art2 and we should wonder if we did not everywhere hear intelligent people discussing the relation of utility and goodness to beauty1 or asking what makes a poem or a picture great4 ,now the science of aesthetics is an attempt to do in a systematic way what thoughtful art lovers have thus always been doing haphazardly4 ,it is an effort to obtain a clear general idea of beautiful objects1 our judgments upon them1 and the motives underlying the acts which create them1--to raise the aesthetic life1 otherwise a matter of instinct and feeling1 to the level of intelligence1 of understanding4 ,to understand art means to find an idea or definition which applies to it and to no other activity1 and at the same time to determine its relation to other elements of human nature2 and our understanding will be complete if our idea includes all the distinguishing characteristics of art1 not simply enumerated1 but exhibited in their achieved relations4 ,how shall we proceed in seeking such an idea of art8 ,we must follow a twofold method3 first1 the ordinary scientific method of observation1 analysis1 and experiment2 and second1 another and very different method1 which people of the present day often profess to avoid1 but which is equally necessary1 as ,i shall try to show1 and actually employed by those who reject it4 ,in following the first method we treat beautiful things as objects given to us for study1 much as plants and animals are given to the biologist4 ,just as the biologist watches the behavior of his specimens1 analyzes them into their various parts and functions1 and controls his studies through carefully devised experiments1 arriving at last at a clear notion of what a plant or an animal is--at a definition of life2 so the student of aesthetics observes works of art and other well-recognized beautiful things1 analyzes their elements and the forms of connection of these1 arranges experiments to facilitate and guard his observations from error and1 as a result1 reaches the general idea for which he is looking1--the idea of beauty4 ,a vast material presents itself for study of this kind3 the artistic attempts of children and primitive men2 the well-developed art of civilized nations1 past and present1 as creative process and as completed work2 and finally1 the everyday aesthetic appreciations of nature and human life1 both by ourselves and by the people whom we seek out for study4 ,each kind of material has its special value4 ,the first has the advantage of the perspicuity which comes from simplicity1 similar for our purposes to the value of the rudimentary forms of life for the biologist4 ,but this advantage of early art may be overestimated2 for the nature of beauty is better revealed in its maturer manifestations1 even as the purposes of an individual are more fully1 if not more clearly1 embodied in maturity than in youth or childhood4 ,yet a purely objective method will not suffice to give us an adequate idea of beauty4 ,for beautiful things are created by men1 not passively discovered1 and are made1 like other things which men make1 in order to realize a purpose4 ,just as a saw is a good saw only when it fulfills the purpose of cutting wood1 so works of art are beautiful only because they embody a certain purpose4 ,the beautiful things which we study by the objective method are selected by us from among countless other objects and called beautiful because they have a value for us1 without a feeling for which we should not know them to be beautiful at all4 ,they are not1 like sun and moon1 independent of mind and will and capable of being understood in complete isolation from man4 ,no world of beauty exists apart from a purpose that finds realization there4 ,we are1 to be sure1 not always aware of the existence of this purpose when we enjoy a picture or a poem or a bit of landscape2 yet it is present none the less4 ,the child is equally unaware of the purpose of the food which pleases him1 yet the purpose is the ground of his pleasure2 and we can understand his hunger only through a knowledge of it4 ,the dependence of beauty upon a relation to purpose is clear from the fact that in our feelings and judgments about art we not only change and disagree1 but correct ourselves and each other4 ,the history of taste1 both in the individual and the race1 is not a mere process1 but a progress1 an evolution4 ,we were wrong in calling that poem beautiful1 we say2 you are mistaken in thinking that picture a good one2 the eighteenth century held a false view of the nature of poetry2 the ,english ,pre-,raphaelites confused the functions of poetry and painting2 to-day we understand what the truly pictorial is better than ,giotto did2 and so on4 ,now nothing can be of worth to us1 one thing cannot be better than another1 nor can we be mistaken as to its value except with reference to some purpose which it fulfills or does not fulfill4 ,there is no growth or evolution apart from a purpose in terms of which we can read the direction of change as forward rather than backward4 ,this purpose cannot be understood by the observation and analysis1 no matter how careful1 of beautiful things2 for it exists in the mind primarily and only through mind becomes embodied in things2 and it cannot be understood by a mere inductive study of aesthetic experiences--the mind plus the object--just as they come2 because1 as we have just stated1 they are changeful and subject to correction1 therefore uncertain and often misleading4 ,the aesthetic impulse may falter and go astray like any other impulse2 a description of it in this condition would lead to a very false conception4 ,no1 we must employ a different method of investigation--the ,socratic method of self-scrutiny1 the conscious attempt to become clear and consistent about our own purposes1 the probing and straightening of our aesthetic consciences4 ,instead of accepting our immediate feelings and judgments1 we should become critical towards them and ask ourselves1 ,what do we really seek in art and in life which1 when found1 we call beautiful8 ,of course1 in order to answer this question we cannot rely on an examination of our own preferences in isolation from those of our fellow-men4 ,here1 as everywhere1 our purposes are an outgrowth of the inherited past and are developed in imitation of1 or in rivalry with1 those of other men4 ,the problem is one of interpreting the meaning of art in the system of culture of which our own minds are a part4 ,nevertheless1 the personal problem remains4 ,aesthetic value is emphatically personal2 it must be felt as one's own4 ,if ,i accept the standards of my race and age1 ,i do so because ,i find them to be an expression of my own aesthetic will4 ,in the end1 my own will to beauty must be cleared up2 its darkly functioning goals must be brought to light4 ,now1 unless we have thought much about the matter or are gifted with unusual native taste1 we shall find that our aesthetic intentions are confused1 contradictory1 and entangled with other purposes4 ,to become aware of this is the first step towards enlightenment4 ,we must try to distinguish what we want of art from what we want of other things1 such as science or morality2 for something unique we must desire from anything of permanent value in our life4 ,in the next place we should come to see that we cannot want incompatible things2 that1 for example1 we cannot want art to hold the mirror up to life and1 at the same time1 to represent life as conforming to our private prejudices2 or want a picture to have expressive and harmonious colors and look exactly like a real landscape2 or long for a poetry that would be music or a sculpture that would be pictorial4 ,finally1 we must make sure that our interpretation of the aesthetic purpose is representative of the actual fullness and manysidedness of it2 we should observe1 for example1 that sensuous pleasure is not all that we seek from art2 that truth of some kind we seek besides2 and yet that in some sort of union we want both4 ,this clearing up can be accomplished only in closest touch with the actual experience of beauty2 it must be performed upon our working preferences and judgments4 ,it must be an interpretation of the actual history of art4 ,there is no a priori method of establishing aesthetic standards4 ,just as no one can discover his life purpose apart from the process of living1 or the purpose of another except through sympathy2 so no one can know the meaning of art except through creating and enjoying and entering into the aesthetic life of other artists and art lovers4 ,this so-called normative--perhaps better1 critical--moment in aesthetics introduces an inevitable personal element into every discussion of the subject4 ,even as every artist seeks to convince his public that what he offers is beautiful1 so every philosopher of art undertakes to persuade of the validity of his own preferences4 ,i would not make any secret of this with regard to the following pages of this book4 ,yet this intrusion of personality need not be harmful1 but may1 on the contrary1 be valuable4 ,it cannot be harmful if the writer proceeds undogmatically1 making constant appeals to the judgment of his readers and claiming no authority for his statements except in so far as they find favor there4 ,influence rather than authority is what he should seek4 ,in presenting his views1 as he must1 he should strive to stimulate the reader to make a clear and consistent formulation of his own preferences rather than to impose upon him standards ready made4 ,and the good of the personal element comes from the power which one strong preference or conviction has of calling forth another1 and compelling it to the discovery and defense of its grounds4 ,in so far as aesthetics is studied by the objective method it is a branch of psychology4 ,aesthetic facts are mental facts4 ,a work of art1 no matter how material it may at first seem to be1 exists only as perceived and enjoyed4 ,the marble statue is beautiful only when it enters into and becomes alive in the experience of the beholder4 ,keys and strings and vibrations of the air are but stimuli for the auditory experience which is the real nocturne or etude4 ,ether vibrations and the retina upon which they impinge are nothing more than instruments for the production of the colors which1 together with the interpretation of them in terms of ideas and feelings1 constitute the real picture which we appreciate and judge4 ,the physical stimuli and the physiological reactions evoked by them are important for our purpose only so far as they help us to understand the inner experiences with which they are correlated4 ,a large part of our work1 therefore1 will consist in the psychological analysis of the experience of art and the motives underlying its production4 ,we shall have to distinguish the elements of mind that enter into it1 show their interrelations1 and differentiate the total experience from other types of experience4 ,since1 moreover1 art is a social phenomenon1 we shall have to draw upon our knowledge of social psychology to illumine our analysis of the individual's experience4 ,art is a historical1 even a technical1 development2 hence the personal enjoyment of beauty itself is conditioned by factors that spring from the traditions of groups of artists and art lovers4 ,no one can understand his pleasure in beauty apart from the pleasure of others4 ,in so far1 on the other hand1 as aesthetics is an attempt to define the purpose of art and so to formulate the standards presupposed in judgments of taste1 it is closely related to criticism4 ,the relation is essentially that between theory and the application of theory4 ,it is the office of the critic to deepen and diffuse the appreciation of particular works of art4 ,for this purpose he must possess standards2 but he need not be1 and in fact often is not1 aware of them4 ,a fine taste may serve his ends4 ,not infrequently1 however1 the critic endeavors to make clear to himself and his readers the principles he is employing4 ,now1 on its normative side1 aesthetics is ideally the complete rationale of criticism1 the systematic achievement1 for its own sake1 of what the thoughtful critic attempts with less exactness and for the direct purpose of appreciation4 ,it is beyond the province of aesthetics to criticize any particular work of art1 except by way of illustration4 ,the importance of illustration for the sake of explaining and proving general principles is1 however1 fundamental2 for1 as we have seen1 a valuable aesthetic theory is impossible unless developed out of the primary aesthetic life of enjoyment and estimation1 a life of contact with individual beautiful things4 ,no amount of psychological skill in analysis or philosophical aptitude for definition can compensate for want of a real love of beauty1--of the possession of something of the artistic temperament4 ,people who do not love art1 yet study it from the outside1 may contribute to our knowledge of it through isolated bits of analysis1 but their interpretations of its more fundamental nature are always superficial4 ,hence1 just as the wise critic will not neglect aesthetics1 so the philosopher of art should be something of a critic4 ,yet the division of labor is clear enough4 ,the critic devotes himself to the appreciation of some special contemporary or historical field of art--,shakespearean drama1 ,renaissance sculpture1 ,italian painting1 for example2 while the philosopher of art looks for general principles1 and gives attention to individual works of art and historical movements only for the purpose of discovering and illustrating them4 ,and1 since the philosopher of art seeks a universal idea of art rather than an understanding of this or that particular work of art1 an intimate acquaintance with a few examples1 through which this idea can be revealed to the loving eye1 is of more importance than a wide but superficial aesthetic culture4 ,in our discussion thus far1 we have been assuming the possibility of aesthetic theory4 ,but what shall we say in answer to the mystic who tells us that beauty is indefinable8 ,first of all1 ,i think1 we should remind him that his own thesis can be proved or refuted only through an attempt at a scientific investigation of beauty4 ,every attempt to master our experience through thought is an adventure2 but the futility of adventures can be shown only by courageously entering into them4 ,and1 although the failure of previous efforts may lessen the probabilities of success in a new enterprise1 it cannot prove that success is absolutely impossible4 ,through greater persistence and better methods the new may succeed where the old have failed4 ,moreover1 although we are ready to grant that the pathway to our goal is full of pitfalls1 marked by the wreckage of old theories1 yet we claim that the skeptic or the mystic can know of their existence only by traveling over the pathway himself2 for in the world of the inner life nothing can be known by hearsay4 ,if1 then1 he would really know that the road to theoretical insight into beauty is impassable1 let him travel with us and see2 or1 if not with us1 alone by himself or with some one wiser than we as guide2 let him compare fairly and sympathetically the results of theoretical analysis and construction with the data of his firsthand experience and observe whether the one is or is not adequate to the other4 ,again1 the cleft between thought and feeling1 even subtle and fleeting aesthetic feeling1 is not so great as the mystics suppose4 ,for1 after all1 there is a recognizable identity and permanence even in these feelings2 we should never call them by a common name or greet them as the same despite their shiftings from moment to moment if this were not true4 ,although whatever is unique in each individual experience of beauty1 its distinctive flavor or nuance1 cannot be adequately rendered in thought1 but can only be felt2 yet whatever each new experience has in common with the old1 whatever is universal in all aesthetic experiences1 can be formulated4 ,the relations of beauty1 too1 its place in the whole of life1 can be discovered by thought alone2 for only by thought can we hold on to the various things whose relations we are seeking to establish2 without thought our experience falls asunder into separate bits and never attains to unity4 ,finally1 the mystics forget that the life of thought and the life of feeling have a common root2 they are both parts of the one life of the mind and so cannot be foreign to each other4 ,the motive impelling to any kind of undertaking is usually complex1 and that which leads to the development of aesthetic theory is no exception to the general rule4 ,a disinterested love of understanding has certainly played a part4 ,every region of experience invites to the play of intelligence upon it2 the lover of knowledge1 as ,plato says1 loves the whole of his object4 ,yet even intelligence1 insatiable and impartial as it is1 has its predilections4 ,the desire to understand a particular type of thing has its roots in an initial love of it4 ,as the born botanist is the man who finds joy in contact with tree and moss and mushroom1 so the student of aesthetics is commonly a lover of beauty4 ,and1 although the interest which he takes in aesthetic theory is largely just the pleasure in possessing clear ideas1 one may question whether he would pursue it with such ardor except for the continual lover's touch with picture and statue and poem which it demands4 ,for the intelligent lover of beauty1 aesthetic theory requires no justification2 it is as necessary and pleasurable for him to understand art as it is compulsive for him to seek out beautiful things to enjoy4 ,to love without understanding is1 to the thoughtful lover1 an infidelity to his object4 ,that the interest in aesthetic theory is partly rooted in feeling is shown from the fact that1 when developed by artists1 it takes the form of a defense of the type of art which they are producing4 ,the aesthetic theory of the ,german ,romanticists is an illustration of this2 ,hebbel and ,wagner are other striking examples4 ,these men could not rest until they had put into communicable and persuasive form the aesthetic values which they felt in creation4 ,and we1 too1 who are not artists but only lovers of beauty1 find in theory a satisfaction for a similar need with reference to our preferences4,footnote3 ,compare ,santayana3 ,the ,sense of ,beauty1 p4 #aa4 ,more important to the average man is the help which aesthetic theory may render to appreciation itself4 ,if to the basal interest in beauty be added an interest in understanding beauty1 the former is quickened and fortified and the total measure of enjoyment increased4 ,even the love of beauty1 strong as it commonly is1 may well find support through connection with an equally powerful and enduring affection4 ,the aesthetic interest is no exception to the general truth that each part of the mind gains in stability and intensity if connected with the others2 isolated1 it runs the risk of gradual decay in satiety or through the crowding out of other competing interests1 which if joined with it1 would have kept it alive instead4 ,moreover1 the understanding of art may increase the appreciation of particular works of art4 ,for the analysis and constant attention to the subtler details demanded by theory may bring to notice aspects of a work of art which do not exist for an unthinking appreciation4 ,as a rule1 the appreciations of the average man are very inadequate to the total possibilities offered1 extending only to the more obvious features4 ,often enough besides1 through a mere lack of understanding of the purpose of art in general and of the more special aims of the particular arts1 people expect to find what cannot be given1 and hence are prejudiced against what they might otherwise enjoy4 ,the following pages will afford1 ,i hope1 abundant illustrations of this truth4 ,finally1 aesthetic theory may have a favorable influence upon the creation of art4 ,not that the student of aesthetics can prescribe to the artist what he shall or shall not do2 for the latter can obey1 for better or worse1 only the inner imperative of his native genius4 ,yet1 inevitably1 the man of genius receives direction and cultivation from the aesthetic sentiment of the time into which he is born and grown2 even when he reacts against it1 he nevertheless feels its influence2 a sound conception of the nature and purpose of art may save him from many mistakes4 ,the ,french classical tradition in sculpture and painting1 which is not merely academic1 having become a part of public taste1 prevented the production of the frightful crudities which passed for art in ,germany and ,england during the present and past centuries4 ,by helping to create a freer and more intelligent atmosphere for the artist to be born and educated in1 and finer demands upon him when once he has begun to produce and is seeking recognition1 the student of aesthetics may indirectly do not a little for him4 ,and surely in our own country1 where an educated public taste does not exist and the fiercest prejudices are rampant1 there is abundant opportunity for service4 ,,chapter ,,ii ,,definition ,,of ,,art ,since it is our purpose to develop an adequate idea of art1 it might seem as if a definition were rather our goal than our starting point2 yet we must identify the field of our investigations and mark it off from other regions2 and this we can do only by means of a preliminary definition1 which the rest of our study may then enrich and complete4 ,we shall find it fruitful to begin with the definition recently revived by ,croce3 ,footnote3 ,benedetto ,croce3 ,estetica1 translated into ,english by ,douglas ,ainslie1 under title ,aesthetic1 chap4 i4 art is expression2 and expression we may describe1 for our own ends1 as the putting forth of purpose1 feeling1 or thought into a sensuous medium1 where they can be experienced again by the one who expresses himself and communicated to others4 ,thus1 in this sense1 a lyric poem is an expression--a bit of a poet's intimate experience put into words2 epic and dramatic poetry are expressions--visions of a larger life made manifest in the same medium4 ,pictures and statues are also expressions2 for they are embodiments in color and space-forms of the artists' ideas of visible nature and man4 ,works of architecture and the other industrial arts are embodiments of purpose and the well-being that comes from purpose fulfilled4 ,this definition1 good so far as it goes1 is1 however1 too inclusive2 for plainly1 although every work of art is an expression1 not every expression is a work of art4 ,automatic expressions1 instinctive overflowings of emotion into motor channels1 like the cry of pain or the shout of joy1 are not aesthetic4 ,practical expressions also1 all such as are only means or instruments for the realization of ulterior purposes--the command of the officer1 the conversation of the market place1 a saw--are not aesthetic4 ,works of art--the ,ninth ,symphony1 the ,ode to the ,west ,wind--are not of this character4 ,no matter what further purposes artistic expressions may serve1 they are produced and valued for themselves2 we linger in them2 we neither merely execute them mechanically1 as we do automatic expressions1 nor hasten through them1 our minds fixed upon some future end to be gained by them1 as is the case with practical expressions4 ,both for the artist and the appreciator1 they are ends in themselves4 ,compare1 for example1 a love poem with a declaration of love4,footnote3 ,contrast ,croce's use of the same illustration3 ,esthetic1 p4 #bb1 ,english translation4 ,the poem is esteemed for the rhythmic emotional experience it gives the writer or reader2 the declaration1 even when enjoyed by the suitor1 has its prime value in its consequences1 and the quicker it is over and done with and its end attained the better4 ,the one1 since it has its purpose within itself1 is returned to and repeated2 the other1 being chiefly a means to an end1 would be senseless if repeated1 once the end that called it forth is accomplished4 ,the value of the love poem1 although written to persuade a lady1 cannot be measured in terms of its mere success2 for if beautiful1 it remains of worth after the lady has yielded1 nay1 even if it fails to win her4 ,any sort of practical purpose may be one motive in the creation of a work of art1 but its significance is broader than the success or failure of that motive4 ,the ,russian novel is still significant1 even now1 alter the revolution4 ,as beautiful1 it is of perennial worth and stands out by itself4 ,but practical expressions are only transient links in the endless chain of means1 disappearing as the wheel of effort revolves4 ,art is indeed expression1 but free or autonomous expression4 ,the freedom of aesthetic expression is1 however1 only an intensification of a quality that may belong to any expression4 ,for1 in its native character1 expression is never merely practical2 it brings its own reward in the pleasure of the activity itself4 ,ordinarily1 when a man makes something embodying his need or fancy1 or says something that expresses his meaning1 he enjoys himself in his doing4 ,there is naturally a generous superfluity in all human behavior4 ,the economizing of it to what is necessary for self-preservation and dominion over the environment is secondary1 not primary1 imposed under the duress of competition and nature4 ,only when activities are difficult or their fruits hard to get are they disciplined for the sake of their results alone2 then only does their performance become an imperative1 and nature and society impose upon them the seriousness and constraint of necessity and law4 ,but whenever nature and the social organization supply the needs of man ungrudgingly or grant him a respite from the urgency of business1 the spontaneity of his activities returns4 ,the doings of children1 of the rich1 and of all men on a holiday illustrate this4 ,compare1 for example1 the speech of trade1 where one says the brief and needful thing only1 with the talk of excursionists1 where verbal expression1 having no end beyond itself1 develops at length and at leisure2 where brevity is no virtue and abundant play takes the place of a narrow seriousness4 ,but we have not yet so limited the field of expression that it becomes equivalent to the aesthetic2 for not even all of free expression is art4 ,the most important divergent type is science4 ,science also is expression1--an embodiment in words1 diagrams1 mathematical symbols1 chemical formula1 or other such media1 of thoughts meant to portray the objects of human experience4 ,scientific expressions have1 of course1 a practical function2 concepts are plans of action or servants of plans1 the most perfect and delicate that man possesses4 ,yet scientific knowledge is an end in itself as well as a utility2 for the mere construction and possession of concepts and laws is itself a source of joy2 the man of science delights in making appropriate formulations of nature's habits quite unconcerned about their possible uses4 ,in science1 therefore1 there is much free expression2 but beauty not yet4 ,no abstract expression such as ,euclid's ,elements1 ,newton's ,principia1 or ,peano's ,formulaire1 no matter how rigorous and complete1 is a work of art4 ,we admire the mathematician's formula for its simplicity and adequacy2 we take delight in its clarity and scope1 in the ease with which it enables the mind to master a thousand more special truths1 but we do not find it beautiful4 ,equally removed from the sphere of the beautiful are representations or descriptions of mere things1 whether inaccurate or haphazard1 as we make them in daily life1 or accurate and careful as they are elaborated in the empirical sciences4 ,no matter how exact and complete1 the botanist's or zoologist's descriptions of plant and animal life are not works of art4 ,they may be satisfactory as knowledge1 but they are not beautiful4 ,there is an important difference between a poet's description of a flower and a botanist's1 or between an artistic sketch and a photograph1 conferring beauty upon the former1 and withholding it from the latter4 ,the central difference is this4 ,the former are descriptions not of things only1 but of the artist's reactions to things1 his mood or emotion in their presence4 ,they are expressions of total1 concrete experiences1 which include the self of the observer as well as the things he observes4 ,scientific descriptions1 on the other hand1 render objects only2 the feelings of the observer toward them are carefully excluded4 ,science is intentionally objective1--from the point of view of the artistic temperament1 dry and cold4 ,even the realistic novel and play1 while seeking to present a faithful picture of human life and to eliminate all private comment and emotion1 cannot dispense with the elementary dramatic feelings of sympathy1 suspense1 and wonder4 sthetic expression is always integral1 embodying a total state of mind1 the core of which is some feeling2 scientific expression is fragmentary or abstract1 limiting itself to thought4 ,art1 no less than science1 may contain truthful images of things and abstract ideas1 but never these alone2 it always includes their life1 their feeling tones1 or values4 ,because philosophy admits this element of personality1 it is nearer to art than science is4 ,yet some men of science1 like ,james and ,huxley1 have made literature out of science because they could not help putting into their writings something of their passionate interest in the things they discovered and described4 ,the1 necessity in art for the expression of value is1 ,i think1 the principal difference between art and science1 rather than1 as ,croce ,footnote3 ,estetica1 quarta edizione1 p4#bg2 ,english translation4 p4#cf4 supposes1 the limitation of art to the expression of the individual and of ,science to the expression of the concept4 ,for1 on the one hand1 science may express the individual2 and1 on the other hand1 art may express the concept4 ,the geographer1 for example1 describes and makes maps of particular regions of the earth's surface2 the astronomer studies the individual sun and moon4 ,poets like ,dante1 ,lucretius1 ,shakespeare1 and ,goethe express the most universal concepts of ethics or metaphysics4 ,but what makes men poets rather than men of science is precisely that they never limit themselves to the mere clear statement of the concept1 but always express its human significance as well4 ,a theory of human destiny is expressed in ,prospero's lines-- ,we are such stuff ,as dreams are made of1 and our little life ,is rounded with a sleep2 but with overtones of feeling at the core4 ,or consider the passion with which ,lucretius argues for a naturalistic conception of the universe4 ,and the reason why poets clothe their philosophical expressions in concrete images is not because of any shame of the concept1 but just in order the more easily and vividly to attach and communicate their emotion4 ,their general preference for the concrete has the same motive2 for there are only a few abstractions capable of arousing and fixing emotion4 ,even as an element of spontaneity is native to all expression1 so originally all expression is personal4 ,this is easily observable in the child4 ,his first uses of words as well as of things are touched with emotion4 ,every descriptive name conveys to him his emotional reaction to the object2 disinterested knowledge does not exist for him2 every tool1 a knife or a fork1 means to him not only something to be used1 but the whole background of feelings which its use involves4 ,our first perceptions of things contain as much of feeling and attitude as of color and shape and sound and odor4 ,pure science and mere industry are abstractions from the original integrity of perception and expression2 mutilations of their wholeness forced upon the mind through the stress of living4 ,to be able to see things without feeling them1 or to describe them without being moved by their image1 is a disciplined and derivative accomplishment4 ,only as the result of training and of haste do the forms and colors of objects1 once the stimuli to a wondering and lingering attention1 become mere cues to their recognition and employment1 or mere incitements to a cold and disinterested analysis and description4 ,knowledge may therefore enter into beauty when1 keeping its liberality1 it participates in an emotional experience2 and every other type of expression may become aesthetic if1 retaining its native spontaneity1 it can acquire anew its old power to move the heart4 ,to be an artist means to be1 like the child1 free and sensitive in envisaging the world4 ,under these conditions1 nature as well as art may be beautiful4 ,in themselves1 things are never beautiful4 ,this is not apparent to common sense because it fails to think and analyze4 ,but beauty may belong to our perceptions of things4 ,for perception is itself a kind of expression1 a process of mind through which meanings are embodied in sensations4 ,given are only sensations1 but out of the mind come ideas through which they are interpreted as objects4 ,when1 for example1 ,i perceive my friend1 it may seem as if the man himself were a given object which ,i passively receive2 but1 as a matter of fact1 all that is given are certain visual sensations2 that these are my friend1 is pure interpretation--,i construct the object in embodying this thought in the color and shape ,i see4 ,the elaboration of sensation in perception is usually so rapid that1 apart from reflection1 ,i do not realize the mental activity involved4 ,but if it turns out that it was some other man that ,i saw1 then ,i realize at once that my perception was a work of mind1 an expression of my own thought4 ,of course1 not all perceptions are beautiful4 ,only as felt to be mysterious or tender or majestic is a landscape beautiful2 and women only as possessed of the charm we feel in their presence4 ,that is1 perceptions are beautiful only when they embody feelings4 ,the sea1 clouds and hills1 men and women1 as perceived1 awaken reactions which1 instead of being attributed to the mind from which they proceed1 are experienced as belonging to the things evoking them1 which therefore come to embody them4 ,and this process of emotional and objectifying perception has clearly no other end than just perception itself4 ,we do not gaze upon a landscape or a pretty child for any other purpose than to get the perceptual1 emotional values that result4 ,the aesthetic perception of nature is1 as ,kant called it1 disinterested2 that is1 autonomous and free4 ,the beauty of nature1 therefore1 is an illustration of our definition4 ,on the same terms1 life as remembered or observed or lived1 may have the quality of beauty4 ,in reverie we turn our attention back over events in our own lives that have had for us a rare emotional significance2 these events then come to embody the wonder1 the interest1 the charm that excited us to recollect them4 ,here the activity of remembering is not a mere habit set going by some train of accidental association2 or merely practical1 arising for the sake of solving some present problem by applying the lesson of the past to it2 or finally1 not unpleasantly insistent1 like the images aroused by worry and sorrow1 but spontaneous and self-rewarding1 hence beautiful4 ,there are also events in the lives of other people1 and people themselves1 whose lives read like a story1 which1 by absorbing our pity or joy or awe1 claim from us a like fascinated regard4 ,and there are actions we ourselves perform1 magnificent or humble1 like sweeping a room1 which1 if we put ourselves into them and enjoy them1 have an equal charm4 ,and they too have the quality of beauty4 ,despite the community between beautiful nature and art1 the differences are striking4 ,suppose1 in order fix our ideas1 we compare one of ,monet's pictures of a lily pond with the aesthetic appreciation of the real pond4 ,the pond is undoubtedly beautiful every time it is seen2 with its round outline1 its sunlit1 flower-covered surface1 its background of foliage1 it is perhaps the source and expression of an unfailing gladness and repose4 ,now the painting has very much the same value1 but with these essential differences4 ,first1 the painting is something deliberately constructed and composed1 the artist himself controlling and composing the colors and shapes1 and hence their values also2 while the natural beauty is an immediate reaction to given stimuli1 each observer giving meaning to his sensations without intention or effort4 ,like the beauty of woman1 it is almost a matter of instinct4 ,in natural beauty1 there is1 to be sure1 an element of conscious intention1 in so far as we may purposely select our point of view and hold the object in our attention2 hence this contrast with art1 although real and important1 is not absolute4 ,moreover1 beauty in perception and memory is the basis of art2 the artist1 while he composes1 nevertheless partly transcribes significant memories and observations4 ,yet1 although relative1 the difference remains2 art always consists of works of art1 natural beauty of more immediate experiences4 ,and from this difference follows another--the greater purity and perfection of art4 ,the control which the artist exerts over his material enables him to make it expressive all through2 every element conspires toward the artistic end2 there are no irrelevant or recalcitrant parts1 such as exist in every perception of nature4 ,last1 the beauty of the painting1 because created in the beholder through a fixed and permaneat mechanism constructed by the artist1 is communicable and abiding1 whereas the immediate beauty of nature is incommunicable and transient4 ,since the sthetic perception of nature has its starting point in variable aspects that never recur1 no other man could see or feel the lily pond as ,monet saw and felt it4 ,and1 although in memory we may possess a silent gallery of beautiful images1 into which we may enter privately as long as we live1 in the end the flux has its way and at death shatters this treasure house irrevocably4 ,hence1 only if the beauty of the lily pond is transferred to a canvas1 can it be preserved and shared4 ,the work of art is the tool of the aesthetic life4 ,just as organic efficiency is tied to the nerve and muscle of the workman and cannot be transferred to another1 but the tool1 on the other hand1 is exchangeable and transmissible 7,i cannot lend or bequeath my arm1 but ,i can my boat72 and just as efficiency is vastly increased by the use of tools 7,i can go further with my boat than ,i can swim72 so1 through works of art1 aesthetic capacity and experience are enhanced and become common possessions1 a part of the spiritual capital of the race4 ,moreover1 even as each invention becomes the starting point for new ones that are better instruments for practical ends2 so each work of art becomes the basis for new experiments through which the aesthetic expression of life attains to higher levels4 ,monet's own art1 despite its great originality1 was dependent upon all the impressionists1 and they1 even when they broke away from1 were indebted to1 the traditions of ,french painting established by centuries4 ,through art1 the aesthetic life1 which otherwise would be a private affair1 receives a social sanction and assistance4 ,that permanence and communication of expression are essential to a complete conception of art can be discerned by looking within the artistic impulse itself4 ,however much the artist may affect indifference to the public1 he creates expecting to be understood4 ,mere self- expression does not satisfy him2 he needs in addition appreciation4 ,deprived of sympathy1 the artistic impulse withers and dies or supports itself through the hope of eventually finding it4 ,the heroism of the poet consists in working on in loneliness2 but his crown of glory is won only when all men are singing his songs4 ,and every genuine artist1 as opposed to the mere improviser or dilettante1 wishes his work to endure4,footnote3 ,see ,anatole ,france3 ,le ,lys ,rouge4 ,moi1 dit ,choulette1 je pense si peu a l'avenir terrestre que j'ai ecrit mes plus beaux poemes sur les feuilles de papier a cigarettes4 ,elles se sont facilement evanuies1 ne laissant a mes vers qu'une espece d'existence metaphysique4 ,c'etait un air de negligence qu'il se donnait4 ,en fait1 il n'avait jamais perdu une ligne de son ecriture4 ,having put his substance into it1 he desires its preservation as he does his own4 ,his immortality through it is his boast4 ,exegi monumentum aere perennius ,regalique situ pyramidum altius 99 99 99 99 99 ,non omnis moriar4 ,art is not mere inspiration1 the transient expression of private moods1 but a work of communication1 meant to endure4 ,there are certain distinguishing characteristics of aesthetic expression all of which are in harmony with the description we have given of it4 ,in the first place1 in art the sensuous medium of the expression receives an attention and possesses a significance not to be found in other types of expression4 ,although every one hears1 no one attends to the sound of the voice in ordinary conversation2 one looks through it1 as through a glass1 to the thought or emotion behind4 ,in our routine perceptions of nature1 we are not interested in colors and shapes on their own account1 but only in order that we may recognize the objects possessing them2 in a scientific woodcut also1 they are indifferent to us1 except in so far as they impart correct information about the objects portrayed4 ,outside of art1 sensation is a mere transparent means to the end of communication and recognition4 ,compare the poem1 the piece of music1 the artistic drawing or painting4 ,there the words or tones must be not only heard but listened to2 the colors and lines not only seen but held in the eye2 of themselves1 apart from anything they may further mean1 they have the power to awaken feeling and pleasure4 ,and this is no accident4 ,for the aesthetic expression is meant to possess worth in itself and is deliberately fashioned to hold us to itself1 and this purpose will be more certainly and effectively accomplished if the medium of the expression has the power to move and please4 ,we enter the aesthetic expression through the sensuous medium2 hence the artist tries to charm us at the start and on the outside2 having found favor there1 he wins us the more easily to the content lying within4 ,if the medium1 moreover1 instead of being a transparent embodiment of the artist's feelings1 can express them in some direct fashion as well1 the power of the whole expression will gain4 ,this is exactly what the sound of the words of a poem or the colors and lines of a painting or statue can do4 ,as mere sound and as mere color and line1 they convey something of the feeling tone of the subject which1 as symbols1 they are used to represent4 ,for example1 the soft flowing lines of ,correggio1 quite apart from the objects they represent1 express the voluptuous happiness of his ,venus and ,mars2 the slow rhythm of the repeated word sounds and the quality of the vowels in the opening lines of ,tithonus are expressive in themselves1 apart from their meaning1 of the weariness in the thoughts of the hero1 and so serve to re-express and enforce the mood of those thoughts4 ,when we come to study the particular arts1 we shall find this phenomenon of re-expression through the medium everywhere4 ,a second characteristic distinguishing aesthetic expressions from other expressions is their superior unity4 ,in the latter1 the unity lies in the purpose to be attained or in the content of the thought expressed2 it is teleological or logical4 ,the unity of a chair is its purpose1 which demands just such parts and in just such a mechanical arrangement2 the unity of a business conversation is governed by the bargain to be closed1 requiring such words and such only1 and in the appropriate logical and grammatical order4 ,the unity of an argument is the thesis to be proved2 the unity of a diagram is the principle to be illustrated or the information to be imparted4 ,compare the unity of a sonnet or a painting4 ,in a sonnet1 there is a unity of thought and sentiment creating a fitting grammatical unity in language1 but in addition a highly elaborate pattern in the words themselves that is neither grammatical nor logical4 ,in a painting1 besides the dramatic unity of the action portrayed1 as in a battle scene2 or of the spatial and mechanical togetherness of things1 as in a landscape2 there is a harmony of the colors1 a composition of the lines and masses themselves1 not to be found in nature4 ,and1 although the general shape and arrangement of the parts of a useful object is dominated by its purpose1 if it is also beautiful--a ,louis ,seize chair1 for example--there is1 besides1 a design that cannot be explained by use4 ,in artistic expressions1 therefore1 there exists a unity in the material1 superposed upon the unity required by the purpose or thought expressed4 ,and this property follows from the preceding4 ,for1 since the medium is valuable in itself1 the mind1 which craves unity everywhere1 craves it there also1 and lingers longer and more happily on finding it2 and1 since the medium can be expressive1 the unity of the fundamental mood of the thought expressed will overflow into and pervade it4 ,hence there occurs an autonomous development of unity in the material1 raising the total unity of the expression to a higher power4 ,,chapter ,,iii ,,the ,,intrinsic ,,value ,,of ,,art ,our definition of art can be complete only if it enables us to understand the value of art4 ,the reader may well ask what possible value expression can have when it becomes an end in itself4 ,i can understand1 he may say1 the value of expression for the sake of communication and influence1 but what value can it have of itself8 ,at this point1 moreover1 we are concerned with the intrinsic value immediately realized in the experience of art1 not with further values that may result from it4 ,art1 no less than practical expression1 may have effects on other experiences1 which have to be considered in measuring its total worth2 but these we shall leave for investigation in our last chapters1 after we have reached our fullest comprehension of art2 we are interested now1 in order to test and complete our definition1 in the resident value only4 ,as a help toward reaching a satisfactory view1 let us examine critically some of the chief theories in the field4 ,first1 the theory1 often called hedonistic1 that the value of art consists in the satisfactions of sense which the media of aesthetic expression afford--the delight in color and sound and rhythmical movement of line and form4 ,the theory finds support in the industrial arts1 where beauty often seems to be only a luxurious charm supervening upon utility2 but also in painting and sculpture when appreciated in their decorative capacity as things of beauty4 ,there is a partial truth in this theory2 for1 as we have seen1 the sensuous media of all the arts tend to be developed in the direction of pleasure2 and no man who lacks feeling for purely sensuous values can enter into the fullness of the aesthetic experience4 ,but the theory fails in not recognizing the expressive function of sensation in art4 ,as ,goethe said1 art was long formative1 that is1 expressive1 before it was beautiful1 in the narrow sense of charming4,footnote3 ,die kunst is lange bildend eh sie schon ist4 ,von ,deutscher ,baukunst1 #aggc4 ,in order to be beautiful1 it is not enough for a work of art to offer us delightful colors and lines and sounds2 it must also have a meaning--it must speak to us1 tell us something4 ,the second theory which ,i shall examine is the moralistic or ,platonic4 ,according to this1 art is an image of the good1 and has value in so far as through expression it enables us to experience edifying emotions or to contemplate noble objects4 ,the high beauty of the ,sistine ,madonna1 for example1 would be explained as identical with the worth of the religious feelings which it causes in the mind of the beholder4 ,the advantage of art over life is supposed to consist in its power to create in the imagination better and more inspiring objects than life can offer1 and to free and control the contemplation of them4 ,this is the narrower interpretation of the theory4 ,when the notion of the good is liberalized so as to include innocent happiness as well as the strictly ethical and religious values1 beauty is conceded to belong to pictures of fair women and children1 and to lyrics and romances1 provided there is nothing in them to shock the moral sense4 ,aesthetic value is the reflection--the imaginative equivalent--of moral or practical value4 ,the prime difficulty of this theory is its inadequacy as an interpretation of the whole of actual art2 for1 in order to find support among existing examples1 it is compelled to make an arbitrary selection of such as can be made to fit it4 ,actual art is quite as much an image of evil as of good2 there is nothing devilish which it has not represented4 ,and this part of art is often of the highest aesthetic merit4 ,velasquez's pictures of dwarfs and degenerate princes are as artistic as ,raphael's ,madonnas2 ,goethe's ,mephistopheles is one of his supreme artistic achievements2 ,shakespeare is as successful artistically in his delineation of ,lady ,macbeth as of ,desdemona4 ,now for us who claim that the purpose of art must be divined from the actual practice of artists1 from the inside1 and should not be an arbitrary construction1 from the outside1 the existence of such examples is sufficient to refute the theory in question4 ,if the artist finds a value in the representation of evil1 value exists there and can be discovered4 ,if1 indeed1 the sole effect of artistic expression were to bring to the mind objects and emotions in the same fashion that ordinary life does1 then the value of art1 the image of life1 would be a function of the value of the life imaged4 ,and just as one seeks contact with the good in real life and avoids the evil1 so one would seek in art imaginative contact with the good alone4 ,but expression1 and above all artistic expression1 does something more than present objects to the imagination and arouse emotions4 ,art is not life over again1 a mere shadow of life2 if it were1 what would be its unique value8 who would not prefer the substance to the shadow8 ,the expression of life is not life itself2 hence1 even if the evil in life be always evil1 the expression of it may still be a good4 ,another theory1 often called the intellectualistic theory1 claims that the purpose of art is truth4 ,beauty is truth2 truth1 beauty4 ,the immediate pleasure which we feel in the beautiful is the same as the instant delight in the apprehension of truth4 ,there is no difference in purpose or value between science and art1 but only a difference in method--science presents truth in the form of the abstract judgment2 art1 in the form of the concrete image or example4 ,the difficulty with this theory is the uncertainty as to what is meant by truth2 hence the many shapes it assumes4 ,but before going deeply into this question1 let us consider some of the simple facts which seem to tell for and against the theory4 ,there can be no doubt that many examples of the representative arts--painting1 sculpture1 novel1 and drama--are praised for their truth4 ,we demand truth of coloring or line in painting1 of form in sculpture1 of character and social relation in the drama or novel4 ,on the other hand1 we admit aesthetic value to fanciful painting and literature1 and to expressions of beliefs which no one accepts at the present time4 ,we appreciate the beauty of ,dante's descriptions of the ,inferno and of the conversations between him and its inhabitants without believing them to be reports of fact4 ,no one values the ,blue ,bird the less because it is not an account of an actual occurrence4 ,even with regard to the realistic novel and drama1 no one thinks of holding them to the standards of historical or scientific accuracy4 ,and1 although we may demand of a landscape painting plausibility of color and line1 we certainly do not require that it be a representation of any identifiable scene4 ,if by truth1 therefore1 be meant a description or image of matters of fact1 then surely it is not the purpose of art to give us this truth4 ,the artist1 to be sure1 may give this1 as when the landscapist paints some locality dear to his client or the portraitist paints the client himself2 but he does not need to do this1 and the aesthetic value of his work is independent of it2 for the picture possesses its beauty even when we know nothing of its model4 ,in the language of current philosophy1 truth in the sense of the correspondence of a portrayal to an object external to the portrayal1 is not artistic truth4 ,the partisans of the intellectualistic theory would1 of course1 deny that they ever meant truth with this meaning4 ,we mean by truth1 they would say1 an embodiment in sensuous or imaginative form of some universal principle of nature and life4 ,the image may be entirely fictitious or fanciful1 but so long as the principle is illustrated1 essential truth1 and that is beauty1 is attained4 ,but if this were so1 every work of art would be the statement of a universal truth1 as indeed philosophical adherents of this theory have always maintained--witness ,hegel4 ,yet what is the universal truth asserted in one of ,monet's pictures of a lily pond8 ,there is1 of course1 an observance of the general laws of color and space1 but does the beauty of the picture consist in that8 ,does it not attach to the representation of the concrete1 individual pond8 ,i do not mean that there may not be beauty in the expression of universals2 in fact1 ,i have explicitly maintained that there may1 under certain conditions2 ,i am simply insisting that beauty may belong to expressions of the individual also1 and that you cannot reduce these to mere illustrations of universal ideas4 ,because of its completeness and internal harmony1 the philosopher may find the simplest melody a revelation of the ,absolute2 but even if it were1 its beauty would still pertain to it primarily as a revelation of the individual experience which it embodies4 ,again1 by reason of the freedom from the particular conditions out of which it arises acquired by a work of art1 its individual meaning easily becomes typical1 so that it often serves as a universal under which individuals similar to those represented are subsumed--as when we speak of a ,faust or a ,hamlet2 nevertheless1 the adequate expression of the individual is at once the basis of its beauty and of its extended1 universalized significance4 ,it is when works of art are profoundly individual that we generalize their meaning4 ,in art the individual never sinks to the position of a mere specimen or example of a universal law4 ,the intellectualistic theory is partly true of symbolic art1 but not wholly1 for even there1 the individuality of the symbol counts4 ,and yet1 as we shall see1 there is another meaning of artistic truth1 which is legitimate4 ,aesthetic value1 therefore1 is not alone sensuous value or ethical or scientific or philosophical value4 ,a work of art may contain one or all of these values2 but they do not constitute its unique value as art4 ,the foregoing attempts to define the value of art fail because they renounce the idea of unique value1 substituting goodness1 sensuous pleasure1 or truth-values found outside of art4 ,but the intrinsic value of art must be unique1 for it is the value of a unique activity--the free expression of experience in a form delightful and permanent1 mediating communication4 ,and this value we should be able to discover by seeking the difference which supervenes upon experience through expression of this kind4 ,apart from expression1 experience may be vivid and satisfactory as we feel and think and dream and act2 yet it is always in flux1 coming and going1 shifting and unaware4 ,but through expression it is arrested by being attached to a permanent form1 and there can be retained and surveyed4 ,experience1 which is otherwise fluent and chaotic1 or when orderly too busy with its ends to know itself1 receives through expression the fixed1 clear outlines of a thing1 and can be contemplated like a thing4 ,every one has verified the clarifying effect of expression upon ideas1 how they thus acquire definiteness and coherence1 so that even the mind that thinks them can hold them in review4 ,but this effect upon feeling is no less sure4 ,the unexpressed values of experience are vague strivings embedded in chaotic sensations and images2 these expression sorts and organizes by attaching them to definite ordered symbols4 ,even what is most intimate and fugitive becomes a stable object4 ,when put into patterned words1 the subtlest and deepest passions of a poet1 which before were felt in a dim and tangled fashion1 are brought out into the light of consciousness4 ,in music1 the most elusive moods1 by being embodied in ordered sounds1 remain no longer subterranean1 but are objectified and lifted into clearness4 ,in the novel or drama1 the writer is able not only to enact his visions of life in the imagination1 but1 by bodying them forth in external words and acts1 to possess them for reflection4 ,in painting1 all that is seen and wondered at in nature is seen with more delicacy and discrimination and felt with greater freedom2 or the vague fancies which a heated imagination paints upon the background of the mind come out more vivid and better controlled1 when put with care upon a canvas4 ,even ordinary expression1 of course1 arrests and clarifies experience1 enabling us to commune with ourselves2 but since its purpose is usually beyond itself1 this result is hasty and partial1 limited to what is needful for the practical end in view4 ,in art alone is this value complete4 ,for there1 life is intentionally held in the medium of expression1 put out into color and line and sound for the clear sight and contemplation of men4 ,the aim is just to create life upon which we may turn back and reflect4 ,this effect of artistic expression upon experience has usually been called intuition4 ,because of its connotation of mysterious knowledge1 intuition is not a wholly satisfactory word1 yet is probably as good as any for the purpose of denoting what artists and philosophers of art have had in mind and what we have been trying to describe4 ,other terms might also serve--vision1 sympathetic insight 7sympathetic1 because it includes the value of experience2 insight1 because it involves possessing experience as a whole and ordered1 and as an object for reflection74 ,intuition is opposed1 on the one hand1 to crude unreflecting experience that never observes itself as a whole or attains to clearness and self-possession2 and1 on the other hand1 to science1 which gives the elements and relations of an experience1 the classes to which it belongs1 but loses its uniqueness and its values4 ,science elaborates concepts of things1 gives us knowledge about things2 art presents us with the experience of things purified for contemplation4 ,scientific truth is the fidelity of a description to the external objects of experience2 artistic truth is sympathetic vision--the organization into clearness of experience itself4 ,compare1 for illustration1 life as we live it from day to day with our delineation of it as we recall it and tell it to an intimate companion2 and then compare that with the analysis and classification of it which some psychologist or sociologist might make4 ,or compare the kind of knowledge of human nature that we get from ,shakespeare or ,moliere with the sort that we get from the sciences4 ,in the one case1 knowledge attends a personal acquaintance with the experience1 a bringing of it home1 a feeling for its values1 a realization of the inner necessity of its elements2 in the other1 it is a mere set of concepts4 ,or finally1 compare the knowledge of the human figure contained in an anatomist's manual with a painting of it1 where we not only see it1 but in the imagination touch it and move with it1 in short live with it4 ,intuition is the effect of artistic appreciation no less than of artistic creation4 ,if the artist's expression of his feelings and ideas results in intuition1 our appreciation of his work must have the same value1 for appreciation is expression transferred from the artist to the spectator4 ,by means of the colors1 lines1 words1 tones that he makes1 the artist determines in us a process of expression similar to his4 ,out of our own minds we put into the sense-symbols he has woven ideas and feelings which provide the content and meaning he intends4 ,hence all aesthetic appreciation is self-expression4 ,this is evident in the case of the more lyrical types of art4 ,the lyric poem is appreciated by us as an expression of our own inner life2 music as an expression of our own slumberous or subconscious moods4 ,yet even the more objective types of art1 like the novel or the drama1 become forms of self-expression1 for we have to build up the worlds which they contain in our own imagination and emotion4 ,we have to live ourselves out in them2 we can understand them only in terms of our own life4 ,in the appreciation of the more objective types of art1 the personality expressed is not1 of course1 the actual personality2 but rather the self extended and expanded through the imagination4 ,the things which ,i seem to see and enjoy in the landscape picture ,i may have never really seen2 ,i may have never really moved through the open plain there1 as ,i seem to move1 toward the mountain in the distance4 ,the acts described in the novel or portrayed on the stage ,i do not really perform2 the opinions uttered by the persons ,i do not hold4 ,and yet1 in order to appreciate the picture1 it must be as if ,i really saw the mountain and moved towards it2 in order to appreciate the novel or the play1 ,i must make the acts and opinions mine4 ,and this ,i can do2 for1 as it is a commonplace to note1 each one of us has within him capacities of action and emotion and thought unrealized--the actual self is only one of many that might have been--hundreds of possible lives slumber in our souls4 ,and no matter which of these lives we have chosen for our own1 or have had forced upon us by our fate1 we always retain a secret longing for all the others that have gone unfulfilled1 and an understanding born of longing4 ,some of these we imagine distinctly--those that we consciously rejected or that a turn of chance might have made ours2 but most of them we ourselves have not the power even to dream4 ,yet these too beckon us from behind1 and the artist provides us with their dream4 ,through art we secure an imaginative realization of interests and latent tendencies to act and think and feel which1 because they are contradictory among themselves or at variance with the conditions of our existence1 cannot find free play within our experience4 ,that same sort of imaginative enlarged expression of self that we get vicariously by participating in the life of our friends we get also from art4,footnote3 ,compare ,santayana3 ,the ,sense of ,beauty1 p4 #ahf4 ,yet in appreciation1 as in creation1 expression results in intuition4 ,appreciation is no mere imagining1 transitory and lawless like a daydream4 ,the activity of the imagination is so organized in a permanent and perspicuous form that we not only live it1 but possess it as an object4 ,the activities engaged in building up the work of art in my own mind are not the whole of me2 judgment remains free to watch and synthesize those that are being crystallized there4 ,in looking at a portrait1 for example1 the process of interpreting the life represented is ancillary to a total judgment of character4 ,in the novel or drama1 no matter with what abandon ,i put myself into the persons and situations1 the expression of them in outward words and acts1 and the organization which the artist has imposed upon them1 makes of them permanent objects for reflection1 not mere modes of feeling and imagining to endure4 ,self-expression that does not attain to objectivity is incomplete as art4 ,even music and lyric poetry are something more than mere feeling4 ,in all genuine art1 experience takes on permanence and form--a synthesis1 a total meaning1 supervenes within the flux of impressions and ideas and moods1 not excluding1 but embracing and controlling them4 ,that is intuition4 ,the insight into experience which art provides is the more valuable because it is communicable2 to possess it alone would be a good1 but to share it is better4 ,all values become enhanced when we add to them the joy of fellow feeling4 ,the universality of aesthetic expression carries with it the universality of aesthetic insight4 ,merely private and unutterable inspirations are not art4 ,beauty does for life what science does for intelligence2 even as the one universalizes thought1 so the other universalizes values4 ,in expressing himself1 the artist creates a form into which all similar experiences can be poured and out of which they can all be shared4 ,when1 for example1 we listen to the hymns of the church or read the poems of ,horace1 the significance of our experience is magnified because we find the feelings of millions there2 we are in unison with a vast company living and dead4 ,no thing of beauty is a private possession4 ,all artists feed on one another and into each experience of art has gone the mind-work of the ages4 ,but there are two types of universality1 one by exclusion1 the other by inclusion4 ,communists like ,tolstoy demand that art express only those feelings that are already common1 the religious and moral2 they would exclude all values that have not become those of the race4 ,but this is to diminish the importance of art2 for it is art's privilege to make feelings common by providing a medium through which they can be communicated rather than merely to express them after they have become common4 ,understanding is more valuable when it encompasses the things that tend to separate and distinguish men than when it is limited to the things that unite them4 ,there is nothing so bizarre that art may not express it1 provided it be communicable4 ,the life of the imagination1 which is the life of art1 is1 moreover1 the only life that we can have in common4 ,sharing life can never mean anything else than possessing the life of one another sympathetically4 ,actually to lead another's life would involve possessing his body1 occupying his position1 doing his work1 and so destroying him4 ,but through the sympathetic imagination we can penetrate his life and leave him in possession4 ,to do this thoroughly is possible1 however1 only with the life of a very few people1 with intimates and friends4 ,with the mass1 we can share only ideal things like religion or patriotism1 but these also are matters of imagination4 ,now art enlarges the scope of this common life by creating a new imaginary world to which we can all belong1 where action1 enjoyment1 and experience do not involve competition or depend on possession and mastery4 ,finally1 the intuitions that art provides are relatively permanent4 ,art not only extends life and enables us to share it1 but also preserves it4 ,existence has a leak in it1 as ,plato said2 experience flows in and then flows out forever4 ,the individual passes from one act to another1 from one phase of life to another1 childhood1 then youth1 then old age4 ,so the race2 one generation follows another1 and each type of civilization displaces a predecessor4 ,against this flux1 our belief in progress comforts us2 maturity is better than youth1 we think1 and each generation happier and more spiritual than the last4 ,yet the consolations of progress are partial4 ,for even if we always do go on to something better in the future1 the past had its unique value1 and that is lost ineluctably4 ,the present doubtless repeats much of the form of the past--the essential aspects of human nature remain the same2 but the subtle1 distinctive bloom of each stage of personal life1 and of each period of the world's history1 is transient4 ,we cannot again become children1 nor can we possess again the strenuous freedom of the ,renaissance or the unclouded integrity of personality of the ,greeks4 ,in the life of the individual1 however1 the flux is not absolute2 for through memory we preserve something of the unique value of our past4 ,its vividness1 its fullness1 the sharp bite of its reality go2 but a subtilized essence remains4 ,and the worth that we attach to our personality depends largely upon it2 for the instinct of self- preservation penetrates the inner world2 we strive not only to maintain our physical existence in the present1 but our psychic past as well4 ,in conserving the values of the past through memory we find a satisfaction akin to that of protecting our lives from danger4 ,through memory we feel childhood's joys and youth's sweet love and manhood's triumphs still our own1 secure against the perils of oblivion4 ,now art does for the race what memory does for the individual4 ,only through expression can the past be preserved for all men and all time4 ,when the individual perishes1 his memories go with him2 unless1 therefore1 he puts them into a form where they can be taken up into the consciousness of other men1 they are lost forever4 ,and just as the individual seeks a vicarious self-preservation through identifying himself with his children and his race1 and finds compensation for his own death in their continuance1 so he rejoices when he knows that men who come after will appreciate the values of his life4 ,we of the present feel ourselves enriched1 in turn1 as by a longer memory1 in adding to the active values of our own lives the remembered values of the past4 ,their desire to know themselves immortal is met by our desire to unite our lives with all our past4 ,art alone makes this possible4 ,history may tell us what men did1 but only the poet or other artist can make us relive the values of their experience4 ,for through expression they make their memories1 or their interpretations of other men's memories1 ours4 ,art is the memory of the race1 the conserver of its values4 ,the distinguishing characteristics of aesthetic expression observed by us--the pleasurableness of the medium1 the enhanced unity--serve intuition as that has been described by us4 ,one of the strongest objections against the theory of art as intuition1 as that theory has been developed by ,croce1 for example1 is that it provides no place for charm4 ,yet without charm there is no complete beauty1 and any interpretation of the facts of the aesthetic experience which neglects this element is surely inadequate4 ,but charm although an indispensable1 is not an independent1 factor in the experience of art2 for it serves intuition4 ,it does so in two ways4 ,the charm of the medium1 by drawing attention to itself1 increases the objectivity of the experience expressed4 ,even when the experiences felt into color and line and sound are poignantly our own1 to live pleasantly in any one of these sensations is to live as an object to oneself1 the life sharing the externality of the medium--we put our life out there more readily when it is pleasant there4 ,and the charm of the medium serves intuition in another way4 ,when the activities of thought and feeling and imagination released by the work of art are delightful1 they become more delightful still if the medium in which they function is itself delightful4 ,to imagine ,charm'd magic casements1 opening on the foam ,of perilous seas1 in fairy lands forlorn is a pleasure by itself1 but more pleasurable1 and therefore more spontaneous1 because of the melody of sound in which it is enveloped4 ,and when the activities expressed are not pleasant1 the expression of them in a delightful medium helps to induce us to make them our own and accept them notwithstanding4 ,the medium becomes a charming net to hold us1 and because of its allurements we give ourselves the more freely to its spirit within4 ,the following1 for example1 is not an agreeable thought3 ,to-morrow1 and to-morrow1 and to-morrow1 ,creeps in this petty pace from day to day1 ,to the last syllable of recorded time2 ,and all our yesterdays have lighted fools ,the way to dusty death4 ,yet the expression of this thought is pleasant1 among other reasons1 because of the rhythmic charm of language4 ,we shall come back to this fact in our chapter on ,the ,problem of ,evil in ,aesthetics4 ,there is no contradiction between the fair form of a work of art and its content1 however repellent4 ,for if we value the sympathetic knowledge of life1 we shall be glad of any means impelling us to undertake what alone can give this--a friendly dwelling with life itself4 ,thus the decorative and the expressive functions of art are reconciled--pleasure and intuition meet4 ,just as from time to time pleasure in sensation has been one-sidedly thought to be the purpose of art1 so likewise the unity characteristic of beautiful things4 ,indeed1 beauty and order have become almost synonymous in popular thought4 ,and1 to be sure1 this unity1 as we have already remarked1 has its own value2 the mind delights in order just for its own sake1 and the artist1 who is bent on making something worthful on its own account1 strives to develop it for that reason4 ,and yet unity is no more independent of expression and intuition than sensation is2 it too enters into their service4 ,many forms of unity in works of art are themselves media of expression--the simplest and most striking example is perhaps the rhythmical ordering of sounds in poetry and music1 the emotional value of which everybody appreciates4 ,in a later chapter1 ,i shall try to show that the same is true of harmony and balance4 ,in another way1 also1 unity serves intuition4 ,for the existence of order in an experience is indispensable to that wholeness of view1 that mastery in the mind1 which is half of intuition4 ,the merely various1 the chaotic1 the disorganized1 cannot be grasped or understood4 ,in order that an experience may be understood1 its items must be strung together by some principle in terms of which they may demand each other and constitute a whole4 ,organization is understanding4 ,every work of art1 every beautiful thing1 is organized1 and1 as we have observed1 organized not merely in the thought or other meaning expressed1 but throughout1 in the sensuous medium as well4 ,so far the value which we have discovered in artistic expression has been that of delightful and orderly sympathetic vision4 ,this is supplemented from still another source of value4 ,through artistic expression pent-up emotions find a welcome release4 ,no matter how poignant be the experience expressed1 the weight1 the sting of it disappears through expression4 ,for through expression1 as we have seen1 the experience is drawn from the dark depths of the self to the clear and orderly surface of the work of art2 the emotions that weighed are lifted out and up into color and line and sound1 where the mind can view and master them4 ,mere life gives place to the contemplation of life2 and contemplation imposes on life some of the calm that is its own4 ,the most violent and unruly passions may be the material of art1 but once they are put into artistic form they are mastered and refined4 ,there is an art of passion1 but no passionate art 7,schiller74 ,through expression1 the repression1 the obstruction of feeling is broken down2 the mere effort to find and elaborate a fitting artistic form for the material diverts the attention and provides other occupation for the mind2 an opportunity is given to reflect upon and understand the experience1 bringing it somehow into harmony with one's total life1--through all these means procuring relief4 ,it is impossible to cite the famous passage from ,goethe's ,poetry and ,truth too often3-- ,and thus began that bent of mind from which ,i could not deviate my whole life through2 namely1 that of turning into an image1 into a poem1 everything that delighted or troubled me1 or otherwise occupied my attention1 and of coming to some certain understanding with myself thereupon4444 ,all the works therefore that have been published by me are only fragments of one great confession4 ,footnote3 ,english translation1 edited by ,parke ,godwin1 ,vol4 ,i1 p4#ff4 ,this effect of artistic expression belongs1 of course1 to other forms of expression4 ,every confession1 every confidential outpouring of emotion1 is an example4 ,we have all verified the truth that to formulate feeling is to be free with reference to it2 not that we thereby get rid of it1 but that we are able to look it in the face1 and find some place for it in our world where we can live on good terms with it4 ,the greatest difficulty in bearing with any disappointment or sorrow comes not from the thing itself--for after all we have other things to live for--but from its effect upon the presuppositions1 so to speak1 of our entire existence4 ,the mind has an unconscious set of axioms or postulates which it assumes in the process of living2 now anything that seems to contradict these1 as a great calamity does1 by destroying the logic of life1 makes existence seem meaningless and corrupts that faith in life which is the spring of action4 ,in order for the health of the mind to be restored1 the contradictory fact must be somehow reconciled with the mind's presuppositions1 and the rationality of existence reaffirmed4 ,but an indispensable preliminary to this is that we should clearly envisage and reflect upon the fact1 viewing it in its larger relations1 where it will lose its overwhelming significance4 ,now that is what expression1 by stabilizing and clarifying experience1 enables us to do4 ,a great many works of art besides ,goethe's1 not merely of lyric poetry1 but also of the novel and drama1 among them some of the greatest1 like the ,divine ,comedy1 so far as they spring intimately from the life of the artist1 are fragments of a great confession1 and have had the sanitary value of a confession for their creators4 ,it is not always possible to trace the personal feelings and motives lying behind the artist's fictions2 for the suffering soul covers its pains with subtle disguises2 yet even when we do not know them1 we can divine them4 ,we are certain1 for example1 that ,watteau's gay pictured visions were the projection--and confession--of his own disappointed dreams4 ,the great advantage of art over ordinary expression1 in this respect1 is its universality4 ,art is the confessional of the race4 ,the artist provides a medium through which all men can confess themselves and heal their souls4 ,in making the artist's expression ours1 we find an equal relief4 ,who does not feel a revival of some old or present despair of his own when he reads3-- ,un grand sommeil noir ,tombe sur ma vie2 ,dormez toute espoir1 ,dormez toute envie6 ,je ne vois plus rien1 ,je perds la memoire ,du mal et du bien4444 ,oh1 la triste histoire6 yet who does not at the same time experience its assuagement8 ,and this effect is not confined to lyrical art1 for so far as1 in novel and drama1 we put ourselves in the place of the dramatis persona1 we can pour our own emotional experiences into them and through them find relief for ourselves4 ,just so1 ,aristotle recognized the cathartic or healing influence of art1 both in music and the drama--through pity and fear effecting the proper purgation of these emotions4 ,footnote3 ,poetics1 #f1 #b4 ,politics1 #e1 #g4 ,the delightsomeness of the work of art and its self-sufficient freedom1 standing in contrast with the drab or difficult realities of nature and personal striving1 serve also to make of beauty a consoler and healer4 ,in place of a confused medley of sense impressions1 art offers orderly and pleasant colors or sounds2 instead of a real life of duties hard to fulfill and ambitions painfully accomplished1 art provides an imagined life which1 while imitating and thus preserving the interest of real life1 remains free from its hazards and burdens4 ,i would not base the value of art on the contrast between art and life2 yet it is unlikely1 ,i think1 if life were not so bound and disordered1 that art would seem so free and perfect2 and it is often true that those who suffer and struggle most love art best4 ,the unity of the work of art1 in which each element suggests another within its world1 keeping you there and shutting you out momentarily from the real world to which you must presently return1 and the sensuous charm of the medium1 fascinating your eyes and ears1 bring forgetfulness and a temporary release4 ,to sum the results of the last two chapters4 ,art is expression1 not of mere things or ideas1 but of concrete experience with its values1 and for its own sake4 ,it is experience held in a delightful1 highly organized sensuous medium1 and objectified there for communication and reflection4 ,its value is in the sympathetic mastery and preservation of life in the mind4 ,,chapter ,,iv ,,the ,,analysis ,,of ,,the ,,aesthetic ,,experience3 ,,the ,,elements ,,of ,,the ,,experience ,thus far we have sought to define art1 to form a concrete idea of the experience of art1 and to place it in its relations to other facts4 ,we shall now pass from synthetic definition to psychological analysis4 ,we want to pick out the elements of mind entering into the experience of art and exhibit their characteristic relations4 ,in the present chapter we shall concern ourselves chiefly with the elements1 leaving the study of most of the problems of structure to the following chapter4 ,every experience of art ,footnote3 ,throughout this discussion1 ,i use experience of art1 aesthetic experience1 and beauty with the same meaning4 contains1 in the first place1 the sensations which are the media of expression4 ,in a painting1 for example1 there are colors2 in a piece of music1 tones2 in a poem1 word-sounds4 ,to this material1 secondly1 are attached vague feelings4 ,it is characteristic of aesthetic expressions1 as we have observed1 that their media1 quite apart from anything that they may mean or represent1 are expressive of moods--the colors of a painting have a stimmung1 so have tones and words1 when rhythmically composed4 ,the simplest aesthetic experiences1 like the beauty of single musical tones or colors1 are of no greater complexity2 yet almost all works of art contain further elements2 for as a rule the sensations do not exist for their own sakes alone1 but possess a function1 to represent things4 ,the colors of a landscape painting are not only interesting to us as beautiful colors1 but as symbols of a landscape2 the words of a ballad charm and stimulate us not only through their music1 but because of actions or events which they bring before the mind4 ,this involves1 psychologically speaking1 that certain ideas--of trees and clouds in the painting1 of men and their deeds in the poem--are associated to the sense elements and constitute their meaning4 ,such ideas or meanings are the third class of elements in the aesthetic experience4 ,but these ideas1 in their turn1 also arouse emotions1 only not of the indefinite sort which belong to the sense elements1 but definite1 like the emotions aroused by things and events in real life4 ,for example1 ,rembrandt's ,man with the ,gold ,helmet will not only move us in a vague way through the character and rhythm of its lines and colors1 but will1 in addition1 stimulate sentiments of respect and veneration1 similar to those that we should feel if the old warrior were himself before us4 ,in such definite feelings we have1 then1 a fourth class of mental elements4 ,a fifth class will make our list complete4 ,it consists of images from the various sense departments--sight1 hearing1 taste1 smell1 temperature1 movement--which arise in connection with the ideas or meanings1 making them concrete and full4 ,for example1 some of the colors in a landscape painting will not only give us the idea that there is sunlight there1 but will also arouse faint images of warmth1 which will make the idea more vivid2 other colors1 representing the clouds1 will produce faint sensations of softness2 still others1 representing flowers1 may produce faint odors4 ,let us study sensation as an element in beauty1 first4 ,sensation is the door through which we enter into the experience of beauty2 and1 again1 it is the foundation upon which the whole structure rests4 ,without feeling for the values of sensation1 men may be sympathetic and intelligent1 but they cannot be lovers of the beautiful4 ,they may1 for example1 appreciate the profound or interesting ideas in poetry1 but unless they can connect them with the rhythm-values of the sounds of the words1 they have only an intellectual or emotional1 not an aesthetic experience4 ,yet1 despite the omnipresence and supreme worth of sensation in beauty1 not all kinds are equally fit for entrance into the experience4 ,from the time of ,plato1 who writes of fair sights and sounds only1 vision and hearing have been recognized as the preeminently aesthetic senses4 ,these senses provide the basis for all the arts--music and poetry are arts of sound2 painting1 sculpture1 and architecture are arts of vision4 ,and there are good reasons for their special fitness4 ,most cogent of all is the fact that vision and hearing are the natural media of expression2 sounds1 be they words or musical tones1 convey thoughts and feelings2 so do visual sensations--the facial expression or gesture seen communicates the inner life of the speaker2 and even abstract colors and space-forms1 like red and the circle1 have independent feeling-tones4 ,a taste or a temperature sensation may be pleasant or unpleasant1 but has no meaning1 either by itself1 as a color or a tone has1 or through association1 as a word has4 ,it has no connection with the life of feeling or of thought4 ,its chief significance is practical--sweet invites to eating1 cold impels to the seeking of a warm shelter1 touch is a preliminary to grasping4 ,all the so-called lower senses are bound up with instincts and actions4 ,of course sights and sounds have also a significance for instinct--the color and form and voice of the individual of the opposite sex1 for example4 ,but1 before acting on the prompting of instinct1 the lover may pause and enjoy the appealing color and form2 he may connect his feelings with them and hold on to and delight in the resulting experience--an emotional appreciation of the object may intervene between the stimulus and the appropriate action1 and even supplant it4 ,in this way1 vision and hearing may free themselves from the merely practical and become autonomous embodiments of feeling4 ,the distance between the seen or heard object and the body is important4 ,the objects of touch and taste1 on the other hand1 have to be brought into contact with the body2 the practical reaction then follows2 there is no time during which it may be suspended4 ,important also1 especially for the beauty of art1 is our greater power to control sensations of vision and hearing4 ,only colors and sounds can be woven into complex and stable wholes4 ,tastes and odors1 when produced simultaneously or in succession1 do not keep their distinctness as colors and sounds do1 but blur and interfere with each other4 ,no one1 however ingenious1 could construct a symphony of odors or a picture of tastes4 ,nevertheless1 the possibility of controlling colors and sounds and of creating stable and public objects out of them1 is only a secondary reason for their aesthetic fitness4 ,even if one could construct instruments for the orderly production of tastes and odors--and simple instruments of this kind have been devised--one could not make works of art out of them2 for a succession of such sensations would express nothing2 they would still be utterly without meaning4 ,the fundamental reason for the superiority of sights and sounds is their expressiveness1 their connection with the life of feeling and thought4 ,they take root in the total self2 whereas the other elements remain1 for the most part1 on the surface4 ,under favorable conditions1 however1 all sensations may enter into the sthetic experience4 ,despite the close connection between the lower senses and the impulses serving practical life1 there is a certain disinterestedness in all pleasant sensations4 ,fine wines and perfumes offer tastes and odors which are sought and enjoyed apart from the satisfaction of hunger2 in dancing1 movement sensations are enjoyed for their own sake2 in the bath1 heat and cold4 ,but1 as we have seen1 it is not sufficient for a sensation to be free from practical ends in order to become aesthetic2 it must be connected with the larger background of feeling2 it must be expressive4 ,now1 under certain circumstances and in particular cases1 this may occur1 even in the instance of the lower senses4 ,the perfume of flowers1 of roses and of violets1 has a strong emotional appeal2 it is their soul as the poets say4 ,the odor of incense in a cathedral may be an important element in devotion1 fusing with the music and the architecture4 ,or recall the odor of wet earth and reviving vegetation during a walk in the woods on a spring morning4 ,even sensations of taste may become aesthetic4 ,an oft-cited example is the taste of wine on a ,rhine steamer4 ,guyau1 the ,french poet-philosopher1 mentions the taste of milk after a hard climb in the ,pyrenees4 ,footnote3 ,les ,problemes de l'esthetique contemporaine1 #hme edition1 p4 #fc4 ,a drink of water from a clear spring would serve equally well as an example familiar to all4 ,the warmth of a fire1 of sunlight1 of a cozy room1 or the cold of a star-lit winter night have an emotional significance almost1 if not quite1 equal to that of the visual sensations from these objects4 ,touch seems to be irretrievably bound up with grasping and using1 but the touch of a well-loved person may be a free and glowing experience1 sharing with sight in beauty4 ,the movement sensations during a run in the open air or in dancing are not only free from all practical purpose1 but are elements in the total animation4 ,and other examples will come to the mind of every reader4 ,footnote3 ,compare ,volkelt3 ,system der ,aesthetik1 ,bd4 ,i1 ,zweites ,capitel1 ,s4 #ib4 ,as our illustrations show1 the lower senses enter into the beauty of nature only2 they do not enter into the beauty of art4 ,their beauty is therefore vague and accidental4 ,it usually depends1 moreover1 upon some support from vision1 with the beauty of which it fuses4 ,apart from the picturesque surroundings seen1 the mountain milk and the ,rhine wine would lose much of their beauty2 the warmth of sunlight or of fire1 without the brightness of these objects1 the odor of flowers without their form and color1 would be of small aesthetic worth4 ,through connection with vision the lower senses acquire something of its permanence and independence4 ,people differ greatly in their capacity to render the lower senses aesthetic2 it is essentially a matter of refinement1 of power to free them from their natural root in the practical and instinctive1 and lift them into the higher region of sentiment4 ,but every kind of sensation1 however low1 may become beautiful2 this is not to degrade beauty1 but to ennoble sensation4 ,from a psychological standpoint1 sensation is the datum of the aesthetic experience1 the first thing there1 while its power to express depends upon a further process which links it up with thoughts and feelings4 ,we must inquire1 therefore1 how this linkage takes place--how1 for example1 it comes about that the colors of a painting are something more than mere colors1 being1 in addition1 embodiments of trees and sky and foliage1 and of liveliness and gayety and other feelings appropriate to a spring landscape4 ,let us consider the linkage with feeling first4 ,there are two characteristics of aesthetic feeling in its relation to sensations and ideas which must be taken into account in any explanation2 its objectification in them and the universality of this connection4 ,expression is embodiment4 ,we find gayety in the colors of the painting1 joy in the musical tones1 happiness in the pictured face1 tenderness in the sculptured pose4 ,we hear the feeling in the sounds and see it in the lines and colors4 ,the happiness seems to belong to the face1 the joy to the tones1 in the same simple and direct fashion as the shape of the one or the pitch of the others4 ,the feelings have become true attributes4 ,it is only by analysis that we pick them out1 separate them from the other elements of idea or sensation in the whole1 and then1 for the purpose of scientific explanation1 inquire how they came to be connected4 ,and this connection is not one that depends upon the accidents of personal experience4 ,it is not1 for example1 like the emotional significance that the sound of the voice of the loved one has for the lover1 which even he may some day cease to feel1 and which other men do not feel at all4 ,it is rather typified by the emotional value of a melody1 which1 through psychological processes common to all men1 becomes a universal language of feeling4 ,the work of art is a communicable1 not a private expression4 ,as we have observed1 the elements of feeling in the aesthetic experience are of two broad kinds--either vague1 when directly linked with the sensuous medium1 or else definite1 when this linkage is mediated by ideas through which the medium is given content and meaning4 ,the former kind1 which ,i shall consider first1 comprises all cases of the emotional expressiveness of the medium itself1--of tones and word-sounds and their rhythms and patterns1 of colors and lines and space-forms and their designs4 ,the detailed study of this expressiveness ,i shall leave to the chapters on the arts2 here ,i wish merely to indicate the kind of psychological process involved4 ,in many cases the psychological principle of association operates4 ,the tender expressiveness of certain curved lines1 like those of the ,greek amphora1 for example1 is due1 partially at least1 to association with lines of the human body1 with which normally this feeling is associated4 ,the associated object1 together with its feeling tone1 are sufficiently common to the experience of all men to account for the universality of the emotion1 and the isolation of the stimulus--abstract line--from its usual context of color and bulk accounts for the vagueness4 ,sometimes1 on the other hand1 expressiveness seems to be due to a direct psychological relation between the sense-stimulus and the emotion4 ,this is almost certainly the case with rhythms1 and1 as ,i shall argue in the chapters on painting and music1 is at least partially true of colors and tones4 ,the expressiveness is at once too immediate and too universal to depend upon association with definite things and events1 or personal1 emotional crises4 ,a rhythm1 for example1 may be exciting the first time it is heard2 one does not have to wait to hear it at a battle-charge2 a melody may be sad even when one has never heard it sung by chance at parting4 ,of course the fact that associations are not remembered is no proof that they do not operate2 but it is difficult to conceive of any which could operate in these cases4 ,for this reason1 ,i think1 we must suppose that certain sense-stimuli and combinations of stimuli not only produce in the sensory areas of the brain the appropriate sensations1 but that their effects are prolonged1 overflowing into the motor channels and there causing a total reaction of the organism1 the conscious aspect of which is a vague feeling4 ,the organic resonance is too slight and diffuse to produce a true emotion2 hence only a mood results4 ,in all the representative arts the vague expressiveness of the medium is reinforced through emotions aroused by ideas which interpret sensation as an element of a thing4 ,the green in the painting is not only green1 but green of the sea2 the red is not only red1 but red of the sky2 the curved line is not a mere curve1 it is the outline of a wave4 ,the totality of colors and lines is not a mere color and line composition1 but a marine landscape4 ,the feeling tones of the elements of this complex and of the complex itself are not only those of the colors and lines as such1 but of the interpretative ideas as well2 which in turn are the same as those of the corresponding real things4 ,the psychological process is here simple enough4 ,the feeling tone of the sea is carried by the idea of the sea1 which now fuses with the green color and wavy lines of the painting4 ,but in order fully to explain the phenomena of aesthetic expression1 it is not sufficient to show how the connection between feeling and sensation and idea takes place2 it is necessary1 in addition1 to explain the nature of this connection4 ,the feeling is not experienced by us as what it is--our reaction to the sensations or represented objects--but rather as an objective quality of them4 ,the sounds are sad1 the curve tender1 the sea placid and reposeful4 ,why is this8 ,the explanation is1 ,i think1 as follows4 ,despite their usual subjectivity1 feelings tend to be located in the objective world whenever they are in conflict with or not directly rooted in the personal life or character of the individual4 ,in listening to music1 for example1 feelings of despair and terror may be aroused in me who am perhaps secure and happy2 and even if the feelings are joyous1 they are not occasioned by any piece of personal good fortune--my situation in life is the same now as before4 ,hence1 finding no lodgment in the ego1 and having to exist somewhere1 they seek a domicile in the sounds evoking them4 ,and1 in general1 works of art arouse but offer no personal occasions for feeling1 and therefore absorb it into themselves4 ,the process of objectification may1 however1 go further4 ,it often happens in the aesthetic experience that feelings are not objectified alone1 but carry with them the idea of the self--,i come to feel myself as joyous or despairing in the sounds4 ,the extent to which the idea of the self thus follows the objectified feelings depends largely upon the amount of their reverberation throughout the organism4 ,when this is small1 and the feelings are vague and tenuous1 as in color appreciation1 there is little or no definite projection of the idea of the self2 when1 on the other hand1 it is large and the emotions are strong1 as oftentimes in music1 where breathing1 circulation1 hand and foot are affected1 then ,i myself seem to be there1--striving1 pursuing1 struggling1 in the sounds4 ,i am where my body is4 ,the projection of the idea of the self is facilitated for the same reason when the body is actually employed in the creation of the work of art1 as in singing and acting4 ,it also occurs more readily when the life expressed in the work of art is akin to the spectator's4 ,thus1 an emotional and suggestible woman1 in watching a fine performance of ,magda1 inevitably puts herself in the place of the heroine if she has herself lived through a similar experience4 ,but when the life expressed is strikingly foreign to our own1 the projection of the idea of self is more difficult2 the duality between subject and object tends to remain4 ,these phenomena have excited special attention when1 as in painting and sculpture and the drama1 a human being is represented4 ,suppose1 for example1 ,i see a statue of a runner ready to start4 ,i not only see the form and color of the marble and recognize them as a man's2 ,i also feel emotions of excitement1 tension1 and expectation such as ,i should myself feel were ,i too posed and waiting to run a race4 ,and these emotions ,i experience as the man's1 and as his1 not in a vague way1 but as definitely present in his sculptured form1 even in particular parts of it1--in the swelling chest and tightened limbs4 ,or consider another case4 ,suppose ,i see ,franz ,hals' ,laughing ,cavalier4 ,i feel jollity in the face1 as the cavalier's4 ,yet in both cases ,i may feel the emotions as also my own--as if ,i too were about to run or were laughing4 ,and the projection of the idea of the self will occur most readily if ,i am myself a runner or a jolly person4 ,in both instances1 moreover1 the process will be mediated by impulses to movements that are the normal accompaniments of the emotions in question4 ,if ,i observe myself carefully1 ,i may find that my own chest is tending to swell and my own limbs to tighten1 in imitation of the runner's1 or my own pupils to dilate and the muscles of my face to wrinkle and to part1 in imitation of the ,dutchman's4 ,and these movement-impulses ,i objectify4 ,i not only see jollity in the face1 but laughter as well2 in the statue1 not only excitement1 but running4 ,and again--where my body is1 there am ,i2 so ,i am jolly with the cavalier and excited with the runner4 ,the psychology of this process is simple enough4 ,in my experience there is a plain connection between the sight of a movement and sensations attendant upon movement1 and further1 a connection between some of these movements1 namely1 the expressive movements1 and the emotions which they express4 ,in accordance with the law of association by contiguity1 whenever any one of several mental elements usually connected together is present in the mind1 the others tend to arise also4 ,so here4 ,seeing the semblance of tight muscles and a smiling face1 ,i feel the emotions which have these visual associates1 experience the correlated movement-sensations1 project them all into the object which initiated the process4 ,in recent years1 a great deal has been made of these movement-sensations in explaining aesthetic feeling4 ,footnote3 ,see the discussions in ,lee and ,thompson3 ,beauty and ,ugliness4 ,yet in the case of all people who are not strongly of the motor type1 people in whose mental make-up movement plays a minor part in comparison with vision and other sensations1 they play a secondary role1 or even hardly any role at all4 ,most spectators1 indeed1 instead of actually making slight movements imitative of the movements seen or represented1 and experiencing the corresponding sensations1 make no movements at all and simply experience movement images2 this substitution of image for movement probably occurs in the minds of all except the most imitative4 ,most people1 even of the motor type1 do not smile when they see the ,laughing ,cavalier or start to run when they see the statue of the runner2 careful observation of themselves would disclose only faint movement images which seem to play about their lips or limbs--mere images of movement have supplanted movements4 ,and many visualists would not find any images at all4 ,however1 although the mistake has been committed by some investigators of supposing that everybody experiences movement because they themselves1 being of the motor type1 do1 it cannot be denied1 ,i think1 that such people attain to a vividness of aesthetic living not reached by others4 ,they appreciate beauty with their bodies as well as with their souls4 ,and in their case too1 as has been shown1 aesthetic appreciation is more strongly histrionic--they not only put themselves into the work of art1 but the idea of themselves as well4 ,following the ,german school of einfuehlung1 ,i have insisted throughout this discussion on the importance of feeling in the aesthetic experience2 yet ,i do not think the voice of those people can be neglected who claim that their experience with works of art is of slight or no emotional intensity4 ,there are people who would report that they feel no jollity when they see the ,laughing ,cavalier1 or anguish when they read the ,ugolino ,canto in the ,inferno2 yet such people often have a highly developed aesthetic taste4 ,how can this difference be accounted for8 ,starting with the emotional appreciation of art as primary1 we can account for it in this wise4 ,it is a familiar phenomenon in the mental life for a concept or idea of an emotional experience to take the place of that experience4 ,what man has not rejoiced when the simple and cold judgment1 ,i suffered then1 has come to supplant a recurring torment8 ,or who that has lived constantly with a sick person has not observed how1 looking on the face of pain1 inevitably the mere comment1 he is in distress1 comes to supplant the liveliest sympathetic thrill8 ,there are many reasons for this4 ,the idea or judgment is a less taxing thing than an emotion1 and so is substituted for it in the mind1 which everywhere seeks economy of effort4 ,the idea is also more efficient from a practical point of view1 because it leads directly to action and does not divert and waste energy in diffused and useless movements4 ,the physician simply recognizes the states of mind of his patients1 he does not sympathize with them4 ,finally our own reactions to an objectified emotion may interfere with the emotion4 ,if1 for example1 we see an angry man1 our own fear of him may entirely supplant our sympathetic feeling of his anger4 ,in general1 in our dealings with our fellow men1 we are too busy with our attitudes and plans with reference to them1 and too much concerned with economizing our emotional energy1 to get a sympathetic intuition of their inner life1 and so are content with an intellectual recognition of it4 ,now this habit of substituting the more rapid and economical process of judgment for the longer and more taxing one of sympathy1 is carried over into the world of art4 ,nevertheless1 the world of art is a region especially fitted for einfuehlung4 ,for there the need for quick action1 which in life tends to syncopate emotion1 does not exist4 ,the characteristic attitude of art is leisurely absorption in an object1 giving time for all the possibilities of feeling or other experience to develop4 ,moreover1 in art there is not the same saving need for the substitution of idea for feeling as in real life4 ,for in art1 feeling is not so strong as in life2 even when the artist expresses his own personal experience1 he lightens its emotional burden through expression1 and we1 when we make his experience ours1 find a similar relief4 ,the emotion is genuine1 only weakened in intensity4 ,in other cases1 where the artist constructs a world of fictitious characters and events1 our knowledge that they are not real suffices to diminish the intensity of the emotions aroused4 ,for emotions have the practical function of inciting to action1 and when action is impossible1 as in the purely ideal world of the artist1 they cannot keep their natural intensity4 ,we cannot feel so strongly over the mere idea of an event as over a real event4 ,were it otherwise1 who could stand the strain of ,hamlet or ,othello8 ,throughout this discussion of the elements of the experience of art1 ,i have used the terms emotion and feeling with an inclusive meaning1 to cover impulses as well as feelings in the narrower sense4 ,for in the aesthetic experience1 there are impulses--impulses to move when action is represented in picture and statue1 impulses to act1 as when1 in watching a play1 we put ourselves in the place of the persons4 ,but such impulses are always checked through the realization that they come from sources unrelated to our purposes1 and fail to get the reenforcement or consent of the total self necessary to action4 ,in reading or singing the ,marseillaise1 to cite an example from poetry1 ,i experience all kinds of impulses--to shoulder a musket1 to march1 to kill--but no one of them is carried out4 ,now an inhibited impulse is scarcely distinguishable from an emotion4 ,with few exceptions1 the impulses in art do not issue in resolves1 decisions1 determinations to act2 or1 if they do1 the determinations refer to acts to be executed in the future1 in an experience distinct and remote from the sthetic--the ,marseillaise has doubtless produced such resolutions in the minds of ,frenchmen2 and there is much art that is productive in that way1 providing the birth in beauty of which ,plato wrote4 ,footnote3 ,in the ,symposium4 ,in art1 impulses result in immediate action only when action is itself the medium of expression1 as in the dance1 where impulses to movement pass over into motion4 ,of course such actions still remain aesthetic since they serve no practical end and are valued for themselves4 ,if the question were raised1 which is more fundamental in the aesthetic experience1 idea or emotion8 the answer would have to be1 emotion4 ,for there exists at least one great art where no explicit ideas are present1 music1 whereas art without emotion does not exist4 ,take away the emotional content from expression and you get either a mere play of sensations1 like fireworks1 or else pseudo-science1 like the modern naturalistic play4 ,however1 the supreme importance of the idea in art cannot be denied4 ,every complex work of art1 save music1 is an expression of ideas as well as of feelings1 and even in music there exists the tendency for feeling to seek definition in ideas--do we not say a musical idea8 ,and do we not find the masters of so abstract an art as ornament employing their materials to represent symbolic conceptions8 ,i wish to call the attention of the reader to certain very general considerations touching the nature and function of ideas in the aesthetic experience1 leaving the study of the concrete problems to the more special chapters4 ,first1 the relation of the idea to the sense medium of the expression4 ,here1 ,i think1 we find something comparable to the process of einfuehlung4 ,for in art1 ideas1 like feelings1 are objectified in sensation4 ,only sensations are given2 out of the mind come ideas through which the former are interpreted and made into the semblance of things4 ,consider1 for example1 ,rembrandt's ,night-,watch4 ,a festal mood is there in the golds and reds1 and gloom in the blacks2 but there also are the men and drums and arms4 ,if we wished to push the analogy with einfuehlung1 we might coin a corresponding term--einmeinung1 inmeaning4 ,in all the representative arts1 this is a process of equal importance with infeeling2 for the artist strives just as much to realize his ideas of objects in the sense material of his art as to put his moods there4 ,when1 moreover1 we consider that the expression of the more complex and definite emotions is dependent upon the expression of ideas of nature and human life1 we see that the process is really a single one4 ,feeling is a function of ideas2 if1 then1 we demand sincerity in the one1 we must equally demand conviction in the other4 ,the poet could not convey to us his pleasure at the sight of nature or his awe of death unless he could somehow bring us into their presence4 ,the painter could not express the moods of sunlight or of shadow until he had invented a technique for their representation4 ,clear and confident seeing is a condition of feeling4 ,hence every advance in the imitation of nature is an advance in the power of expression4 ,the demand for fidelity of representation1 for truth to nature1 so insistently made by the common man in his criticism of art1 is justified even from the point of view of expressionism4 ,yet this fidelity of representation does not involve exact reproduction of nature4 ,the limitations of the media of the arts definitely exclude this4 ,no painter can reproduce on a canvas the infinite detail of any object or exactly imitate its colors and lines4 ,in the single matter of brightness1 for example1 his medium is hopelessly inadequate2 even the light of the moon is beyond his power1 not to speak of the light of the sun2 he has to substitute a relative for an absolute scale of values4 ,the sculptor cannot reproduce the color or hair of the human body4 ,however1 this failure exactly to imitate nature does not prevent the artist from suggesting to us ideas of the objects in which he is interested4 ,if the outline of the marble be that of a man1 we get the idea of a man2 if the color and shape be that of a tree1 we get the idea of a tree4 ,our acceptance of these ideas is1 of course1 only partial2 for we are equally susceptible to the negative suggestions of the whiteness of the marble and the smallness of the outline of the tree4 ,every work of art represents a sort of compromise between reality and unreality1 belief and disbelief4 ,nevertheless1 despite this compromise1 the purpose of art is uncompromisingly attained4 ,for art does not seek to give us nature over again1 but to express its feeling tones1 and these are conveyed when we get an idea of the corresponding object1 even if that idea is inadequate from a strictly scientific point of view4 ,we do not react emotionally to the infinite detail of any object1 but only to its presence as a whole and to certain salient features4 ,the artist succeeds when he constructs a humanized image of the object--one which arouses and becomes a center for feeling4 ,this image1 when made of a few elements1 may be far more telling than a much more accurate copy2 for there is no diffusion of interest to irrelevant aspects4 ,how effective a medium for expression are the few and simple lines of ,beardsley's draftsmanship6 ,the amount of detail necessary to convey an emotionally effective idea is relative to the technique of the different arts and varies also with the suggestibility and discrimination of the observer4 ,here no a priori principles can be laid down for what only the experimental practice of the artist can determine4 ,moreover1 the negative suggestions of a work of art1 although they are effective in preventing entire belief in the reality of the idea expressed1 do not hinder the communication and appreciation of the attached feelings4 ,just so long as the belief attitude is not wholly extinguished1 this is the case2 and the skillful artist takes care of that4 ,of course1 an attitude of self-surrender1 of willingness to accept suggestions1 has to be present and we cooperate with the artist in creating it4 ,aesthetic belief implies sufficient abandon that we may react emotionally to a suggestion1 but not enough that we may react practically4 ,we let the idea tell upon our feelings2 we do not let it incite us to action4 ,the aesthetic plausibility of an idea depends largely upon its initial plausibility with the artist4 ,there is nothing more contagious than belief4 ,to utter things with an accent of conviction is half the battle in getting oneself believed4 ,if the artist pretends to believe something and expresses himself with an air of assurance1 we accept it1 no matter how preposterous it may be from the practical or scientific point of view4 ,think of ,rabelais6 ,a work of art is a logical system4 ,it presupposes certain assumptions1 postulates1 conventions1 which we must accept if we are to live in its world4 ,now1 in order that we may accept them1 the artist must first have vividly accepted them himself4 ,only if they have become a very part of him1 can they become at all valid for us4 ,the failure of classicistic art in a non-classical age1 of ,pre-,raphaelitism after ,raphael1 is a failure in this--the artist has never lived even imaginatively in the world he depicts4 ,his belief is an artifice and a sham1 and he cannot impose upon us with his pretense4 ,but once we have accepted the artist's postulates1 then we are prepared to follow him in his conclusions4 ,in the ,homeric world1 we shall not balk at the intercourse between gods and men2 in mediaeval painting and drama1 we shall accept miracle2 in ,alice in ,wonderland1 we shall accept any dream-like enchantment4 ,but we demand that the conclusions shall follow from the premises1 that the whole be consistent4 ,we cannot tolerate miracle in a realistic novel or drama1 or glaring inaccuracy of fact in a historical novel1 because they are in contradiction to the laws of reality tacitly assumed4 ,the final demand which we make of any work1 of art is that it live4 ,what can be made to live for us may be beautiful to us4 ,but nothing can draw our life into itself which has not drawn the artist's1 or which is untrue to its own inner logic4 ,one of the most life-creating elements of a work of art is imagery4 ,everywhere in art the tendency exists for ideas to be filled out1 rendered concrete and vivid1 through images4 ,in looking at a painting of a summer landscape1 for example1 we not only recognize the colors as meaning sunlight1 but actually experience them as warm2 in looking at a statue we not only recognize its surface as that of the body of a woman1 but we feel its softness and smoothness2 which involves that the ideas of sunlight and a human body1 employed in interpreting the sensations received from these works of art1 are developed back into the original mass of images from which they were derived4 ,however1 although ideas are formed from images1 they are not images1--as our ordinary employment of them in recognizing objects attests4 ,we may and usually do1 for example1 recognize a mirror as smooth without experiencing it as smooth--the image equivalent of the idea remains latent4 ,our ordinary experience with objects is too hasty and too intent on practical ends for images to develop4 ,on the other hand1 the leisurely attitude characteristic of the aesthetic experience is favorable to the recall of images2 hence1 just as in the aesthetic perception of objects we put our feelings into them1 so equally we import into them the relevant images4 ,the aesthetic reaction tends to be total4 ,our demand for feeling in art also requires the image2 for feelings are more vividly attached to images than to abstract ideas4 ,it is a fact familiar in the experience of everybody that the strength of the emotional tone of an object is a function of the clearness of the image which we form of it on recall4 ,we can preserve the feeling tone of a past event or an absent object only if we can keep a vivid image of it2 as our image of it becomes vague1 our interest in it dissipates4 ,everywhere in our experience the image mediates between feeling and idea4 ,so in art4 ,images have no more an independent and self-sufficient status in art than sensations have2 like the latter they are a means for the expression of feeling4 ,in the painting of sunlight1 for example1 the images of warmth carry joyousness and a sense of ease2 in the statue1 the tactile images convey the emotional response to the represented object4 ,in literature the expressiveness of images is perhaps even more impressive4 ,consider how longing is aroused by the tactile1 gustatory1 and thermal images in the oft-quoted lines of ,keats3-- ,o1 for a draught of vintage6 that hath been ,cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth4 ,examples might be multiplied indefinitely4 ,in literature alone of the arts1 images from all departments of sense can be aroused4 ,visual images play a greater role there than in painting and sculpture1 for the reason that1 in the latter1 visual sensations take their place--we do not image what we can see4 ,in sculpture1 the greater part of the imagery is of touch and motion--in the imagination1 we feel the surfaces and move with the represented motions2 the whiteness or blackness of the materials prevents the arousal of the image of the color of the body4 ,in painting1 besides the temperature images already mentioned1 there are touch images--in still-life1 for example1 when silks and furs are represented2 images of odors1 in flower pieces2 of motion1 in pictures which depict motion1 as in the racing horses of ,degas2 of taste1 in pictures of wine and fruit4 ,of course the kind and amount of imagery depend upon the imaginal type to which the spectator belongs and the wealth of the imaginal furnishing of his mind4 ,in any art1 moreover1 the chief and requisite thing is expression through the sense medium1 which should never be obscured by expression through associated images4 ,it is not the primary business of a flower painter to arouse images of perfume1 but to compose colors and lines2 nor the function of the musician to arouse the visual images which accompany the musical experience of many people1 but to compose sounds4 ,in sculpture1 on the other hand1 images of touch and movement play an almost necessary part1 for they are constituent elements in the representation of form and motion2 yet it is not indispensable to the appreciation of sculpture that images of the sweet odor of the human body be awakened4 ,the image is seldom the basis of aesthetic appreciation2 it is more often its completion4 ,but we shall go into these matters more in detail in our special chapters4 ,in the representative arts1 particularly painting and sculpture1 the associated images are fused with the visual sensations which constitute the medium4 ,i see the softness and sweet-odorousness of the painted rose petal1 just as ,i see the real rose soft and sweet2 ,i see the surface of the statue firm and shapely1 just as ,i see the human body so4 ,this is because the ideas of the things represented in painting and sculpture seem to be actually present in the visual sensations which they interpret2 the flower and the man seem to be there before me4 ,in these arts1 aesthetic perception is a fusion of image with sensation in much the way that normal perception is4 ,in literature and music1 on the other hand1 the connection between the sense medium of the art and the associated images is less close2 and for the reason that the sounds are no part of the things which they bring before the mind4 ,in looking at a picture of a rose1 ,i see the red as an element of the rose represented2 whereas1 in reading about a rose1 ,i only seem to hear a voice describing it4 ,in the latter case1 therefore1 the olfactory and visual images have a certain remoteness and independence of the word-sounds2 ,i do not actually see and smell them in the sounds4 ,however1 in the case of familiar words with a strong emotional significance1 the fusion of image with sound may be almost complete4 ,who1 for example1 does not see a sweet and red image of a rose into the word-sounds when he reads3-- ,oh1 my love's like a red1 red rose ,that's newly sprung in ,june4 ,or1 when ,dante describes the selva oscura1 who does not see the darkness in the word oscura8 ,in all such cases a strong feeling tone binds together the word-sound with the image4 ,this fusion is most striking in poetry because of the highly emotional material with which it works4 ,the ideas and images associated with a work of art depend very largely on the education1 experience1 and idiosyncrasy of the spectator4 ,the scholar1 for example1 will put tenfold more meaning into his reading of the ,divine ,comedy than the untrained person4 ,or compare ,pater's interpretation of the ,mona ,lisa with ,muther's4 ,can we say that certain ideas and images belong properly to the work of art1 while others do not8 ,with regard to this1 we can1 ,i think1 set up two criteria4 ,first1 the intention of the artist--whatever the artist meant his work to express3 that it expresses4 ,yet1 since this can never be certainly and completely discovered1 there must always remain a large region of undetermined interpretation4 ,now for judging the relevancy of this penumbra of meaning and association the following test applies--does it bring us back to the sensuous medium of the work of art or lead us away8 ,anything is legitimate which we actually put into the form of the work of art and keep there1 while whatever merely hangs loose around it is illegitimate4 ,for example1 if while listening to music we give ourselves up to personal memories and fancies1 we are almost sure to neglect the sounds and their structure2 we cannot objectify the former in the latter2 with the result that the composition is largely lost to us4 ,naturally1 no hard and fast lines can be drawn1 especially in the case of works of vague import like music2 yet we can use this criterion as a principle for regulating and inhibiting our associations4 ,it demands of us a wide-awake and receptive appreciation4 ,the genuine meanings and associations of a work of art are those which are the irresistible and necessary results of the sense stimuli working upon an attentive percipient2 the rest are not only arbitrary1 but injurious4 ,to this1 some people would doubtless object on the ground that art was made for man and not man for art4 ,the work of art1 they would claim1 should interpret the personal experience of the spectator2 hence whatever he puts into it belongs there of right4 ,there are1 however1 two considerations limiting the validity of this assertion4 ,first1 the work of art is primarily an expression of the artist's personality and1 second1 its purpose is to provide a common medium of expression for the experience of all men4 ,if interpretation remains a purely individual affair1 both its relation to the artist and the possibility of a common aesthetic experience through it are destroyed4 ,for this reason we should1 ,i believe1 deliberately seek to make our appreciations historically sound and definite4 ,and in the social and historical appreciation resulting1 we shall find our own lives--not so different from the artist's and our fellows'--abundantly and sufficiently expressed4 ,,chapter ,v ,,the ,,analysis ,,of ,,the ,,aesthetic ,,experience3 ,,the ,,structure ,,of ,,the ,,experience ,in our discussion of first principles1 we set down a high degree of unity as one of the distinguishing characteristics of works of art4 ,in this we followed close upon ancient tradition2 for the markedly structural character of beauty was noticed by the earliest observers4 ,plato1 the first philosopher of art1 identified beauty with simplicity1 harmony1 and proportion1 and ,aristotle held the same view4 ,they were so impressed with aesthetic unity that they compared it with the other most highly unified type of thing they knew1 the organism2 and ever afterwards it has been called organic unity4 ,with the backing of such authority1 unity in variety was long thought to be the same as beauty2 and1 although this view is obviously one-sided1 no one has since succeeded in persuading men that an object can be beautiful without unity4 ,since art is expression1 its unity is1 unavoidably1 an image of the unity of the things in nature and mind which it expresses4 ,a lyric poem reflects the unity of mood that binds together the thoughts and images of the poet2 the drama and novel1 the unity of plan and purpose in the acts of men and the fateful sequence of causes and effects in their lives4 ,the statue reflects the organic unity of the body2 the painting1 the spatial unity of visible things4 ,in beautiful artifacts1 the basal unity is the purpose or end embodied in the material structure4 ,but the unity of works of art is not wholly derivative2 for it occurs in the free arts like music1 where nothing is imitated1 and even in the representative arts1 as we have observed1 it is closer than in the things which are imaged4 ,aesthetic unity is therefore unique and1 if we would understand it1 we must seek its reason in the peculiar nature and purpose of art4 ,since1 moreover1 art is a complex fact1 the explanation of its unity is not simple2 the unity itself is very intricate and depends upon many cooperating factors4 ,in the case of the imitative arts1 taking the given unity of the objects represented as a basis1 the superior unity of the image is partly due to the singleness of the artist's interest4 ,for art1 as we know1 is never the expression of mere things1 but of things so far as they have value4 ,out of the infinite fullness of nature and of life1 the artist selects those elements that have a unique significance for him4 ,music1 when soft voices die1 ,vibrates in the memory2 ,odors1 when sweet violets sicken1 ,live within the sense they quicken2 ,rose leaves1 when the rose is dead1 ,are heaped for the beloved's bed2 ,and so thy thoughts when thou art gone1 ,love itself shall slumber on4 ,observe how1 out of the countless things which he knows1 the poet has chosen those which he feels akin to his faith in the immortality of love4 ,the painter would not1 if he could1 reproduce all the elements of a face1 but only those that are expressive of the interpretation of character he wishes to convey4 ,the novelist and the dramatist proceed in a like selective fashion in the treatment of their material4 ,in the lives of men there are a thousand actions and events--casual spoken words1 recurrent processes such as eating and dressing1 hours of idleness and futility which1 because repetitious1 habitual1 or inconsequential1 throw no light upon that alone in which we are interested1--character and fortune4 ,to describe a single example of these facts suffices4 ,in the novel and drama1 therefore1 the personalities and life histories of men have a simplicity and singleness of direction not found in reality4 ,the artist seeks everywhere the traits that individualize and characterize1 and neglects all others4 ,moreover1 since the aim of art is to afford pleasure in the intuition of life1 the artist will try to reveal the hidden unities that so delight the mind to discover4 ,he will aim to penetrate beneath the surface of experience observed by common perception1 to its more obscure logic underneath4 ,in this way he will go beyond what the mere mechanism of imitation requires4 ,the poet1 for example1 manifests latent emotional harmonies among the most widely sundered things4 ,the subtle novelist shows how single elements of character1 apparently isolated acts or trivial incidents1 are fateful of consequences4 ,he discloses the minute reactions of one personality upon another4 ,or he enters into the soul of man himself1 into his private and individual selfhood1 and uncovers the hidden connections between thought and feeling and impulse4 ,finally1 he may take the wider sweep of society and tradition into view and track out their part in the molding of man and his fate4 ,in the search for unity1 the artist is on common ground with the man of science2 but with this difference3 the artist is concerned with laws operating in concrete1 individual things in which he is interested2 while the scientist formulates them in the abstract4 ,for the artist1 unity is valuable as characterizing a significant individual2 for the scientist1 it is valuable in itself1 and the individual only as an example of it4 ,this same purpose of affording pleasure in sympathetic vision leads the artist not only to present the unity of life1 but so to organize its material that it will be clear to the mind which perceives it4 ,too great a multitude of elements1 elements that are not assorted into groups and tied by relations or principles1 cannot be grasped4 ,hence the artist infuses into the world which he creates a new and wholly subjective simplicity and unity1 to which there is no parallel in nature4 ,the composition of elements in a picture does not correspond to any actual arrangement of elements in a landscape1 but to the demands of visual perspicuity4 ,the division of a novel into chapters1 of the chapters into paragraphs1 of the paragraphs into sentences1 although it may answer in some measure to the objective divisions of the life-story related1 corresponds much more closely to the subjective need for ready apprehension4 ,the artist meets this need halfway in the organization of the material which he presents4 ,full beauty depends upon an adaptation of the object to the senses1 attention1 and synthetic functions of the mind4 ,the long1 rambling novel of the eighteenth century is a more faithful image of the fullness and diversity of life1 but it answers ill to the limited sweep of the mind1 its proneness to fatigue1 and its craving for wholeness of view4 ,but even all the reasons so far invoked--the necessity for significance1 the interest in unity1 the demand for perspicuity--do not1 ,i think1 suffice to explain the structure of works of art4 ,for structure has1 oftentimes1 a direct emotional appeal1 which has not yet been taken into account1 and which is a leading motive for its presence4 ,consider1 for example1 symmetry4 ,a symmetrical disposition of parts is indeed favorable to perspicuity2 for it is easier to find on either side what we have already found on the other1 the sight of one side preparing us for the sight of the other2 and such an arrangement is flattering to our craving for unity1 for we rejoice seeing the same pattern expressed in the two parts2 yet the experience of symmetry is richer still3 it includes an agreeable feeling of balance1 steadfastness1 stability4 ,this is most evident in the case of visual objects1 like a ,greek vase1 where there is a plain division between right and left similar halves2 but it is also felt in music when there is a balance of themes in the earlier and later parts of a composition1 and in literature in the well-balanced sentence1 paragraph1 or poem4 ,to cite the very simplest example1 if ,i read1 on the one hand 444 on the other hand1 ,i have a feeling of balanced tensions precisely analogous to what ,i experience when ,i look at a vase4 ,structure is not a purely intellectual or perceptive affair2 it is also motor and organic1 and that means emotional4 ,it is felt with the body as well as understood by the mind4 ,i have used the case of symmetry to bring out this truth1 but ,i might have used other types of unification1 each of which has its unique feeling tone1 as ,i shall show presently1 after ,i have analyzed them4 ,keeping in mind the motives which explain the structure of works of art1 ,i wish now to distinguish and describe the chief types4 ,there are1 ,i think1 three of these1 of which each one may include important special forms--unity in variety1 dominance1 and equilibrium4 ,unity in variety was the earliest of the types to be observed and is the most fundamental4 ,it is the organic unity so often referred to in criticism4 ,it involves1 in the first place1 wholeness or individuality4 ,every work of art is a definite single thing1 distinct and separate from other things1 and not divisible into parts which are themselves complete works of art4 ,no part can be taken away without damage to the whole1 and when taken out of the whole1 the part loses much of its own value4 ,the whole needs all of its parts and they need it2 there they live and move and have their being4 ,the unity is a unity of the variety and the variety is a differentiation of the unity4,footnote3 ,cf4 ,lipps3 ,aesthetik1 ,bd4 ,i1 ,drittes ,kapitel4 ,the variety is of equal importance with the unity1 for unity can assert itself and work only through the control of a multiplicity of elements4 ,the analogy between the unity of the work of art and the unity of the organism is still the most accurate and illuminating4 ,for1 like the work of art1 the body is a self-sufficient and distinctive whole1 whose unified life depends upon the functioning of many members1 which1 for their part1 are dead when cut away from it4 ,the conception of unity in variety as organic represents an ideal or norm for art1 which is only imperfectly realized in many works4 ,there are few novels which would be seriously damaged by the omission of whole chapters1 and many a rambling essay in good standing would permit pruning without injury1 unless indeed we are made to feel that the apparently dispensable material really contributes something of fullness and exuberance1 and so is not superfluous1 after all4 ,the unity in some forms of art is tighter than in others2 in a play closer than in a novel2 in a sonnet more compact than in an epic4 ,in extreme examples1 like ,the ,thousand and ,one ,nights1 the ,decameron1 the ,canterbury ,tales1 the unity is almost wholly nominal1 and the work is really a collection1 not a whole4 ,with all admissions1 it remains true1 however1 that offenses against the principle of unity in variety diminish the aesthetic value of a work4 ,these offenses are of two kinds--the inclusion of the genuinely irrelevant1 and multiple unity1 like double composition in a picture1 or ambiguity of style in a building4 ,there may be two or more parallel lines of action in a play or a novel1 two or more themes in music1 but they must be interwoven and interdependent4 ,otherwise there occurs the phenomenon aptly called by ,lipps aesthetic rivalry--each part claims to be the whole and to exclude its neighbor2 yet being unable to do this1 suffers injury through divided attention4 ,unity in variety may exist in any one or more of three modes--the harmony or union of cooperating elements2 the balance of contrasting or conflicting elements2 the development or evolution of a process towards an end or climax4 ,the first two are predominantly static or spatial2 the last1 dynamic and temporal4 ,i know of no better way of indicating the characteristic quality of each than by citing examples4 ,aesthetic harmony exists whenever some identical quality or form or purpose is embodied in various elements of a whole--sameness in difference4 ,the repetition of the same space-form in architecture1 like the round arch and window in the ,roman style2 the recurrence of the same motive in music2 the use of a single hue to color the different objects in a painting1 as in a nocturne of ,whistler3 these are simple illustrations of harmony4 ,an almost equally simple case is gradation or lawful change of quality in space and time--the increase or decrease of loudness in music of saturation or brightness of hue in painting1 the gentle change of direction of a curved line4 ,in these cases there is1 of course1 a dynamic or dramatic effect1 if you take the elements in sequence2 but when taken simultaneously and together1 they are a harmony1 not a development4 ,simplest of all is the harmony between like parts of regular figures1 such as squares and circles2 or between colors which are neighboring in hue4 ,harmonious also are characters in a story or play which are united by feelings of love1 friendship1 or loyalty4 ,thus there is harmony between ,hamlet and ,horatio1 or between the ,cid and his followers4 ,aesthetic balance is the unity between elements which1 while they oppose or conflict with one another1 nevertheless need or supplement each other4 ,hostile things1 enemies at war1 business men that compete1 persons that hate each other1 have as great a need of their opponents1 in order that there may be a certain type of life1 as friends have1 in order that there may be love between them2 and in relation to each other they create a whole in the one case as in the other4 ,there is as genuine a unity between contrasting colors and musical themes as there is between colors closely allied in hue or themes simply transposed in key4 ,contrasting elements are always the extremes of some series1 and are unified1 despite the contrast1 because they supplement each other4 ,things merely different1 no matter how different1 cannot contrast1 for there must be some underlying whole1 to which both belong1 in which they are unified4 ,in order that this unity may be felt1 it is often necessary to avoid absolute extremes1 or at least to mediate between them4 ,among colors1 for example1 hues somewhat closer than the complementary are preferred to the latter1 or1 if the extremes are employed1 each one leads up to the other through intermediate hues4 ,the unity of contrasting colors is a balance because1 as extremes1 they take an equal hold on the attention4 ,the well-known accentuation of contrasting elements does not interfere with the balance1 because it is mutual4 ,a balanced unity is also created by contrasts of character1 as in ,goethe's ,tasso1 or by a conflict between social classes or parties1 as in ,hauptmann's ,die ,weber4 ,balanced1 finally1 is the unity between the elements of a painting1 right and left1 which draw the attention in opposite directions4 ,the third type of unity appears in any process or sequence in which all the elements1 one after another1 contribute towards the bringing about of some end or result4 ,it is the unity characteristic of all teleologically related facts4 ,the sequence cannot be a mere succession or even a simple causal series1 but must also be purposive1 because1 in order to be aesthetic1 the goal which is reached must have value4 ,causality is an important aspect of this type of unity1 as in the drama1 but only because a teleological series of actions depends upon a chain of causally related means and ends4 ,the type is of two varieties3 in the one1 the movement is smooth1 each element being harmoniously related to the last2 in the other1 it is difficult and dramatic1 proceeding through the resolution of oppositions among its elements4 ,the movement usually has three stages3 an initial phase of introduction and preparation2 a second phase of opposition and complication2 then a final one1 the climax or catastrophe1 when the goal is reached2 there may also be a fourth1--the working out of the consequences of this last4 ,illustrations of this mode of unity are3 the course of a story or a play from the introduction of the characters and the complication of the plot to the denouement or solving of the problem2 the development of a character in a novel from a state of simplicity or innocence through storm and stress into maturity or ruin2 the evolution of a sentiment in a sonnet towards its final statement in the last line or two2 the melody1 in its departure from the keynote1 its going forth and return2 the career of a line4 ,as ,i have indicated before1 each type of unity has its specific emotional quality4 ,the very word harmony which we use to denote the first mode is itself connotative of a way of being affected1 of being moved emotionally4 ,the mood of this mode is quiet1 oneness1 peace4 ,we feel as if we were closely and compactly put together4 ,if now1 within the aesthetic whole1 we emphasize the variety1 we begin to lose the mood of peace2 tensions arise1 until1 in the case of contrast and opposition1 there is a feeling of conflict and division in the self2 yet without loss of unity1 because1 if the whole is aesthetic1 each of the opposing elements demands the other2 hence there is balance between them1 and this also we not only know to be there1 but feel there4 ,the characteristic mood of the evolutionary type of unity is equally unique--either a sense of easy motion1 when the process is unobstructed1 or excitement and breathlessness1 when there is opposition4 ,the different types of unity are by no means exclusive of each other and are usually found together in any complex work of art4 ,symmetry usually involves a combination of harmony and balance4 ,the symmetrical halves of a ,greek vase1 for example1 are harmonious in so far as their size and shape are the same1 yet balanced as being disposed in opposite directions1 right and left4 ,rhythm is temporal symmetry1 and so also represents a combination of harmony and balance4 ,static rhythm is only apparent2 for in every seeming case1 the rhythm really pervades the succession of acts of attention to the elements rather than the elements themselves2 a colonnade1 for example1 is rhythmical only when the attention moves from one column to another4 ,there is harmony in rhythm1 for there is always some law--metrical scheme in poetry1 time in music1 similarity of column and equality of interval between them in a colonnade--pervading the elements4 ,but there is also balance2 for as the elements enter the mind one after the other1 there is rivalry between the element now occupying the focus of the attention and the one that is about to present an equal claim to this position4 ,because of its intrinsic value1 we tend to hold on to each element as we hear or see it1 but are forced to relinquish it for the sake of the one that follows2 only for a moment can we keep both in the conscious span2 the recurrence and overcoming of the resulting tension1 as we follow the succession through1 creates the pulsation so characteristic of rhythm4 ,the opposition of the elements as in turn they crowd each other out does not1 however1 interfere with the harmony1 for they have an existence all together in memory1 where the law binding them can be felt1--a law which each element as it comes into consciousness is recognized as fulfilling4 ,since we usually look forward to the end of the rhythmical movement as a goal1 rhythm often exists in combination with evolution1 and is therefore the most inclusive of all artistic structural forms4 ,in a poem1 for example1 the metrical rhythm is a framework overlying the development of the thought4 ,dramatic unity is found combined with balance even in the static arts1 as1 for example1 in the combination of blue and gold1 where the balance is not quite equal1 because of a slight movement from the blue to the more brilliant and striking gold4 ,i have already shown how harmony1 opposition1 and evolution may be combined in a melody4 ,in the drama1 also1 all three are present4 ,there is a balance of opposing and conflicting wills or forces2 this is unstable2 whence movement follows1 leading on to the catastrophe1 where the problem is solved2 and throughout there is a single mood or atmosphere in which all participate1 creating an enveloping harmony despite the tension and action4 ,and other illustrations of combinations of types will come to the mind of every reader4 ,each form of unity has its difficulties and dangers1 which must be avoided if perfection is to be attained4 ,in harmony there may be too much identity and too little difference or variety1 with the result that the whole becomes tedious and uninteresting4 ,this is the fault of rigid symmetry and of all other simple geometrical types of composition1 which1 for this reason1 have lost their old popularity in the decorative and pictorial arts4 ,in balance1 on the other hand1 the danger is that there may be too great a variety1 too strong an opposition2 the elements tend to fly apart1 threatening the integrity of the whole4 ,for it is not sufficient that wholeness exist in a work of art2 it must also be felt4 ,for example1 in ,pre-,raphaelite paintings and in most of the ,secession work of our own day1 the color contrasts are too strong2 there is no impression of visual unity4 ,in the dramatic type of unity there are two chief dangers--that the evolution be tortuous1 so that we lose our way in its bypaths and mazes2 or1 on the other hand1 that the end be reached too simply and quickly2 in the one case1 we lose heart for the journey because of the obstacles2 in the other1 we lose interest and are bored for want of incidents4 ,we come now to the second great principle of aesthetic structure-- ,dominance4,footnote3 ,cf4 ,lipps3 ,aesthetik1 ,bd4 ,i1 ,s4 #ec1 ,viertes ,kapitel ,in an aesthetic whole the elements are seldom all on a level2 some are superior1 others subordinate4 ,the unity is mediated through one or more accented elements1 through which the whole comes to emphatic expression4 ,the attention is not evenly distributed among the parts1 but proceeds from certain ones which are focal and commanding to others which are of lesser interest4 ,and the dominant elements are not only superior in significance2 they are1 in addition1 representative of the whole2 in them1 its value is concentrated2 they are the key by means of which its structure can be understood4 ,they are like good rulers in a constitutional state1 who are at once preeminent members of the community and signal embodiments of the common will4 ,anything which distinguishes and makes representative of the whole serves to make dominant4 ,in a well-constructed play there are one or more characters which are central to the action1 in whom the spirit and problem of the piece are embodied1 as ,hamlet in ,hamlet and ,brand in ,brand2 in every plot there is the catastrophe or turning point1 for which every preceding incident is a preparation1 and of which every following one is a consequent2 in a melody there is the keynote2 in the larger composition there are the one or more themes whose working out is the piece2 in a picture there are certain elements which especially attract the attention1 about which the others are composed4 ,in the more complex rhythms1 in meters1 for example1 the elements are grouped around the accented ones4 ,in an aesthetic whole there are certain qualities and positions which1 because of their claim upon the attention1 tend to make dominant any elements which possess them4 ,in space-forms the center and the edges are naturally places of preeminence4 ,the eye falls first upon the center and then is drawn away to the boundaries4 ,in old pictures1 the ,madonna or ,christ is placed in the center and the angels near the perimeter2 in fancy work it is the center and the border which women embroider4 ,in time1 the beginning1 middle1 and end are the natural places of importance2 the beginning1 because there the attention is fresh and expectant2 towards the middle1 because there we tend to rest1 looking backward to the commencement and forward to the end2 the end itself1 because being last in the mind1 its hold upon the memory is firmest4 ,in any process the beginning is important as the start1 the plan1 the preparation2 the middle as the climax and turning point2 the end as the consummation4 ,of course by the middle is not meant a mathematical point of division into equal parts1 but a psychological point1 which is usually nearer the end1 because the impetus of action and purpose carry forward and beyond4 ,thus in a plot the beginning stands out as setting the problem and introducing the characters and situation2 then the movement of the action1 gathering force increasingly as it proceeds1 breaks at some point well beyond the middle2 in the last part the problem is solved and the consequences of the action are revealed4 ,large size is another quality which distinguishes and tends to make dominant1 as in the tower and the mountain4 ,in one of ,memling's paintings1 ,st4 ,ursula and the ,maidens1 which1 when ,i saw it1 was in ,bruges1 the lady is represented twice as tall as the full grown girls whom she envelops in her protecting cloak2 yet1 despite the unnaturalness1 we do not experience any incongruity2 for it is rational to our feeling4 ,intensity of any sort is another property which creates dominance--loudness of sound in music2 concentration of light in painting1 as in ,rembrandt2 stress in rhythm2 depth and scope of purpose and feeling1 as in the great characters of fiction4 ,the effectiveness of intensity may be greatly increased through contrast--the pianissimo after the fortissimo2 the pathos of the fifth act of ,hamlet set off by the comedy of the first scene4 ,sometimes all the natural qualifications of eminence are united in a single work3 in old paintings1 for example1 the ,christ ,child1 spiritually the most significant element of the whole1 will be of supernatural size1 will occupy the center of the picture1 will have the light concentrated upon him1 and will be dressed in brightly gleaming garments4 ,as ,i have already indicated1 there may be more than one dominant element2 for instance1 two or more principal characters in a novel or play--,lord and ,lady ,macbeth1 ,sancho and ,don ,quixote1 ,othello and ,desdemona1 ,brand and his wife4 ,in this case1 there must be either subordination among them1 a hierarchical arrangement2 or else reciprocity or balance1 as in the illustrations cited1 where it is difficult to tell which is the more important of the two2 otherwise they would pull the whole apart4 ,the advantage of several dominant elements lies in the greater animation1 and when the work is large1 in the superior organization1 which they confer4 ,in order that there may be perspicuity1 it is necessary1 when there are many elements1 that they be separated into minor groups around high points which individualize and represent them1 and so take their place in the mind1 mediating between them and unity when a final synthesis of the whole is to be made4 ,the third great principle of aesthetic structure is equilibrium or impartiality4 ,this is a principle counteracting dominance4 ,it demands1 despite the subordination among the elements1 that none be neglected4 ,each1 no matter how minor its part in the whole1 must have some unique value of its own1 must be an end as well as a means4 ,dominance is the aristocratic principle in art1 the rule of the best2 this is the democratic principle1 the demand for freedom and significance for all4 ,just as1 in a well-ordered state1 the happiness of no individual or class of individuals is sacrificed to that of other individuals or classes2 so in art1 each part must be elaborated and perfected1 not merely for the sake of its contribution to the whole1 but for its own sake4 ,there should be no mere figure-heads or machinery4 ,loving care of detail1 of the incidental1 characterizes the best art4 ,of course this principle1 like the others1 is an ideal or norm1 which is only imperfectly realized in many works of art4 ,many a poet finds it necessary to fill in his lines and many a painter and musician does the like with his pictures or compositions4 ,there is much mere scaffolding and many lay-figures in drama and novel4 ,but the work of the masters is different4 ,there each line or stroke or musical phrase1 each character or incident1 is unique or meaningful4 ,the greatest example of this is perhaps the ,divine ,comedy1 where each of the hundred cantos and each line of each canto is perfect in workmanship and packed with significance4 ,there is1 of course1 a limit to this elaboration of the parts1 set by the demands for unity and wholeness4 ,the individuality of the elements must not be so great that we rest in them severally1 caring little or nothing for their relations to one another and to the whole4 ,the contribution of this principle is richness4 ,unity in variety gives wholeness2 dominance1 order2 equilibrium1 wealth1 interest1 vitality4 ,the structure of works of art is even more complicated than would appear from the description given thus far4 ,for there is not only the unity of the elements among themselves1 but between the two aspects of each element and of the whole--the form and content4 ,this--the unity between the sense medium and whatever of thought and feeling is embodied in it--is the fundamental unity in all expression4 ,it is the unity between a word and its meaning1 a musical tone and its mood1 a color and shape and what they represent4 ,since1 however1 it is indispensable to all expression1 it is not peculiar to art4 ,and to a large extent1 even in the creative work of the artist1 this unity is given1 not made2 the very materials of the artist consisting of elementary expressions--words1 tones1 colors1 space-forms--in which the unity of form and content has already been achieved1 either by an innate psycho-physical process1 as is the case with tones and simple rhythms1 or by association and habit1 as is the case with the words of any natural language1 or the object-meanings which we attach to colors and shapes4 ,the poet does not work with sounds1 but with words which already have their definite meanings2 his creation consists of the larger whole into which he weaves them4 ,of course1 even in the case of ordinary verbal expression1 the thought often comes first before its clothing in words1 when there is a certain process of choice and fitting2 and in painting there is always the possibility of varying conventional forms2 yet even so1 in large measure1 the elements of the arts are themselves expressions1 in which a unity of form and content already exists4 ,in art1 however1 there are subtler aspects to the relation between form and content1 and these have a unique aesthetic significance4 ,for there1 as we know1 the elements of the medium1 colors and lines and sounds1 and the patterns of these1 their harmonies and structures and rhythms1 are expressive1 in a vague way1 of feeling2 hence1 when the artist employs them as embodiments of his ideas1 he has to select them1 not only as carriers of meaning1 but as communications of mood4 ,now1 in order that his selection be appropriate1 it is clearly necessary that the feeling tone of the form be identical with that of the content which he puts into it4 ,the medium as such must reexpress and so enforce the values of the content4 ,this is the harmony1 as distinguished from the mere unity1 of form and content1 the existence of which in art is one of its distinguishing properties4 ,i have already called attention to this in our second chapter4 ,it involves1 as we observed1 that in painting1 for example1 the feeling tone of the colors and lines should be identical with that of the objects to be represented2 in poetry1 that the emotional quality of meter and rhythm should be attuned to the incidents and sentiments expressed4 ,otherwise the effect is ugly or comical4 ,when we come to the work of art1 this harmony is already achieved4 ,but for the artist it is something delicately to be worked out4 ,yet1 just as in ordinary expression form and content often emerge in unison1 the thought itself being a word and the word a thought2 so in artistic creation1 the mother mood out of which the creative act springs1 finds immediate and forthright embodiment in a congenial form4 ,such a spontaneous and perfect balance of matter and form is1 however1 seldom achieved without long and painful experimentation and practice1 both by the artist himself in his own private work1 and by his predecessors1 whose results he appropriates4 ,large traditional and oftentimes rigid forms1 such as the common metrical and musical schemes and architectural orders1 into which the personal matter of expression may aptly fall1 are thus elaborated in every art4 ,as against every looser and novel form1 they have the advantages first1 of being more readily and steadily held in the memory1 where they may gather new and poignant associations2 second1 of coming to us already freighted with similar associations out of the past2 and last1 of compelling the artist1 in order that he may fit his inspiration into them1 to purify it of all irrelevant substance4 ,impatient artists rebel against forms1 but wise ones either accommodate their genius to them1 until they become in the end a second and equally spontaneous nature1 or else create new forms1 as definite as the old4 ,,chapter ,,vi ,,the ,,problem ,,of ,,evil ,,in ,,aesthetics1 ,,and ,,its ,,solution ,,through ,,the ,,tragic1 ,,pathetic1 ,,and ,,comic ,when1 in our third chapter1 we defined the purpose of art1 we indicated that it was broad enough to include the expression of evil1 but we did not show in detail how this was possible4 ,that is our present theme4 ,art is sympathetic representation2 the effort not only to reveal an object to us1 but to unite us with it4 ,the artist finds no difficulty in accomplishing this purpose with reference to one class of objects--those which1 apart from portrayal1 we call beautiful4 ,to these we are drawn immediately because they serve directly the ends of life4 ,nature sees to it that we dwell with pleasure on the sight of healthy children1 well-grown women1 and bountiful landscapes4 ,and to the representations of such objects we are attracted by the same instincts that attract us to the things themselves4 ,no special power of art is required that we take delight in them2 the task of the artist is half accomplished before he begins4 ,yet the scope of art is wider than this1 for it represents evil as well as good4 ,death as well as life1 sickness and deformity as well as health1 suffering as well as joy1 sin equally with goodness1 come within its purview4 ,and these also it not only reveals to us but makes good to know1 so good in fact that they are perhaps the preferred objects of artistic representation4 ,but instead of being able to rely on instincts that would draw us to these objects1 art has to overcome those that would lead us away from them4 ,it has to conquer our natural horror at death1 pain at suffering1 and revulsion against wickedness4 ,how does it8 ,that is the problem of evil in sthetics4 ,there are many means by which this problem is solved4 ,in the first place1 the mere fact that art is representation and not reality does much toward overcoming any feelings of moral or physical repugnance we might have toward the objects represented4 ,these feelings exist for the sake of action2 hence1 when action is impossible--and we cannot act on the unreal--although they may still persist1 they become less strong4 ,toward the merely imaginary1 the practical and moral attitudes1 which towards the real would lead to condemnation and withdrawal1 lose their relevance and tend to disappear4 ,that is one of the advantages of art over the more immediate perception of life4 ,it is difficult to take a purely aesthetic attitude towards all of life1 to seek only to get into sympathetic contact with it for the sake of an inner realization of what it is2 much of it touches us too closely on the side of our practical and moral interests4 ,a certain man1 for example1 does not belong to our set1 or his ways are so bohemian that it would imperil our social position or the safety of our souls to get acquainted with him2 so we reject him and cast him into the outer darkness of our disapproval--or he rejects us4 ,such a person1 we feel1 is to be avoided or haply1 if we be saints1 to be saved from himself2 but not to be accepted and understood4 ,and even if we succeed in freeing ourselves from the moral point of view1 we are still preoccupied with the practical1 if the man happens to interest us commercially2 we have not the time nor the desire to see his nature as a whole4 ,not so in art4 ,as a character in a novel1 a man cannot be employed2 nor can it be a hazard to keep company with him2 and his soul is surely beyond our saving2 the only thing left for us to do is to sympathize with and try to understand him1 to enter into communion with his spirit4 ,by freeing life from the practical and moral1 art gives the imagination full sway4 ,this1 to be sure1 is only a negative force working in the direction of beauty1 yet is important none the less because it enables the more positive influences to function easily4 ,one of these is what ,i would call sympathetic curiosity1 which may encompass all images of life4 ,things which1 if met with in life1 would certainly repel1 when presented in image1 simply excite our curiosity to know4 ,of course some are impelled by the same interest to get into contact with all experience--,homo sum3 humani nihil alienum a me puto--yet with the great majority the impulses to withdraw are too strong4 ,but all have a desire for further knowledge when a mere idea of human life1 however repellent1 is presented2 for the instinct of gregariousness1 which creates a special interest in our kind1 works with full force in the mind to strengthen curiosity4 ,there is no part of human experience which it does not embrace4 ,we can well forego knowledge of stars and trees1 but we cannot remain ignorant of anything human4 ,as the moth to the flame1 we are led1 even against our will1 into all of life1 even the most unpleasant4 ,the charm possessed by the novel and unplumbed1 by such stories as ,jude the ,obscure1 or by the weird imaginings of a ,baudelaire1 comes from this source4 ,it is no mere scientific curiosity1 because it includes that consciousness of kind1 which makes us feel akin to all we know4 ,sympathetic curiosity1 however1 seldom works alone1 for other interests1 less worthy and therefore often unavowed1 usually cooperate to overcome our repugnances towards the unpleasant4 ,many of our repugnances are not simple and original like those felt towards death1 darkness1 and deformity1 but highly complex products of education1 which may be dissolved by a strong appeal to the more primitive instincts which they seek to repress4 ,an artist may1 for example1 through a vivid portrayal1 so excite the animal lust and cruelty which lurk hidden in all of us as to make the most morally reprehensible objects acceptable4 ,nature has taken many a revenge on civilization through art4 ,although no one should demand that these appeals be entirely excluded1 yet when they operate alone1 without the sublimation of insight1 they are flagrantly unaesthetic in their influence1 because they deprive the work of art of its freedom4 ,another means which the artist may employ in order to win us is the appeal of sense4 ,however repellent be the objects which he represents1 if he can clothe them in a sensuous material which will charm us1 he will have exerted a powerful countervailing force4 ,we have already had occasion to observe this in our first chapter4 ,through the call of sense we are invited to enter and are made welcome at the very threshold of the work of art4 ,engaging lines1 winsome colors and tones1 and compelling rhythms can overcome almost any repugnance that we might otherwise feel for the subject-matter4 ,their primary appeals are superior to all the reservations of civilization4 ,no wonder that the stern moralists who would keep beauty for the clean and holy have been afraid of art6 ,yet the delight of sense1 because its emotional effect is diffused1 does not interfere with the contemplative serenity of art1 as unbridled passion does2 it even quiets passion by diverting the attention to itself2 hence may always be employed by the artist4 ,a good example of the aesthetic fascination of sensation is ,von ,stuck's ,salome in the ,art ,institute of ,chicago4 ,for all normal feeling1 ,salome dancing with the head of ,john the ,baptist is a revolting object2 yet how beautiful the artist has made his picture through the simple loveliness of gold and red6 ,it would be a mistake1 however1 to infer the indifference of the subject-matter in art4 ,the creation of a work of art is based on a primary aesthetic experience of nature or human life1 and not everything is capable of producing such an experience in all men4 ,the subject must be one towards which the artist or spectator is able to take the sthetic attitude of emotional1 yet free1 perception4 ,some people are unable to lay aside their moral prepossessions towards certain phases of life or even towards representation of them2 the idea affects them as would the reality4 ,for such people even the genius of a ,beardsley is too feeble to create an experience of beauty out of the material with which he works4 ,or again1 some people cannot objectify their sensual egotistic impulses and feelings2 for them the reading of a ,boccaccio1 for example1 is only a substitute for such feelings1 not a means of insight into them4 ,it requires a robust intellectual attitude1 a predominance of mind over feeling and instinct1 aesthetically to appreciate some works of art4 ,but for those who can receive it1 the representation of any phase of life may afford an aesthetic experience1 may create a thing good to know1 if only it be mastered by the mind and embodied in a charming form4 ,the charm of sense together with the satisfaction of insight are sufficient to explain the conquest of evil by art4 ,yet further means have been employed--the special appeals of the tragic1 pathetic1 and comic4 ,what any one may mean by tragic is largely a matter of personal definition or tradition2 yet there is1 ,i think1 a common essence upon which all would agree4 ,first1 tragedy always involves the manful struggle of a personality in the pursuit of some end1 at the cost of suffering1 perhaps of death and failure4 ,the opposition may come from nature1 as in ,the ,grammarian's ,funeral2 from fate1 as in the ,oedipus2 from social and political interests1 as in ,antigone2 that is of little moment2 it is important solely that the battle be accepted and waged unflinchingly to the issue4 ,in this ultimate sense1 most of human life is tragic2 because it involves a continual warfare with circumstances1 which the majority of people carry on with a silent heroism4 ,originally1 only the glorious and spectacular conflicts of great personalities were deemed worthy of representation in art2 but with the growth of sympathy the range of tragic portrayal has gradually been extended over almost the whole of human life4 ,the peasant in his struggle for subsistence against a niggardly soil1 or the patient woman who loses the bloom of her youth in the unremitting effort to maintain her children1 are tragic figures4 ,second1 it is part of the essence of tragedy that the conflict should be recognized as necessary and its issue as inevitable4 ,in one form or another1 whether as ,greek or ,christian or naturalistic1 fatality has remained an abiding element in the idea of tragedy4 ,the purpose or passion or sentiment which impels the hero to undertake and maintain the struggle must be a part of his nature so integral that nothing else is possible for him4 ,ich kann nicht anders is the cry of every tragic personality4 ,and the opposition which he meets from other persons1 from social forces or natural circumstances1 must seem to be equally fateful--must be represented as issuing from a counter determination or law no less inescapable than the hero's will4 ,even when the catastrophe depends upon some so-called accident1 it must be made to appear necessary that our human purposes should sometimes be caught and strangled in the web of natural fact which envelops them4 ,the reasons for our acceptance of tragedy are not difficult to find and have been noted1 with more or less clearness1 by all students4 ,we accept it much as the hero accepts his own struggle--he believes in the values which he is fighting for and we sympathetically make his will ours4 ,moreover1 we discover a special value in his courage which1 we feel1 compensates for the evil of his suffering1 defeat1 or death4 ,so long as we set any value on life1 it is impossible for us not to esteem courage2 for courage is at once the defense against attack of all our possessions and the source1 in personal initiative and aggressive action1 of newer and larger life4 ,and any shrinking that we may feel against the sternness of the struggle is quenched both by the hero's example and by our recognition of its necessity4 ,since we are not participants of it1 our protest would be futile1 and even if we played a part in it1 we should be as foolish as we should be weak1 not to recognize that the will which opposes us is as inflexible as our own--such is life--that is our ultimate comment4 ,an appreciation of tragedy involves1 therefore1 a sure discernment of the essential disharmony of existence1 yet at the same time1 a feeling for the moral values which it may create2 neither the optimist nor the utilitarian can enter into its world4 ,there are1 however1 works of art in which sheer evil1 without any compensating development of character1 is portrayed2 where indeed the struggle may even cause decay of character4 ,in ,zola's ,the ,dram ,shop1 for example1 the story is the tale of the moral decline1 through unfortunate circumstances and vicious surroundings1 of the sweet1 pliant ,gervaise4 ,instead of developing a resistance to circumstances which would have made them yield a value even in defeat1 she lets herself go and is spoiled beneath them4 ,she has no friend to help or guardian angel to save4 ,we do not blame her1 for1 with her soft nature1 she could not do otherwise than crumble under the hard press of fate2 neither can we admire her1 for she lacks the adamantine stuff of which heroes are made4 ,this is pathos1 not tragedy4 ,and just as most of human life involves tragedy in so far as it develops a strength to meet the dangers which threaten it1 so likewise it involves pathos1 in so far as it seldom resists at every point1 but gives way1 blighted without hope4 ,many a man or woman issues from life's conflicts weaker1 not stronger2 broken1 not defiant2 petulant1 not sweetened2 and at the hour of death there are few heroes4 ,yet there may be beauty in the story of this human weakness and weariness4 ,whence comes it8 ,how can the representation of this sheer evil become a good8 ,the principle involved is a simple one4 ,announced first1 as far as ,i know1 by ,mendelssohn1 it has recently been much more scientifically and penetratingly analyzed by ,lipps1 although wrongly applied by him to the tragic rather than the pathetic4,footnote3 ,cf4 ,lipps3 ,der ,streit ber die ,tragodie1 and ,aesthetik1 ,bd4 ,i1 ,s4 #eii4 ,it is a familiar and generally recognized experience1 as ,lipps has observed1 that any threat or harm done to a value evokes in us a heightened appreciation of its worth4 ,parting is a sweet sorrow because only then do we fully realize the worth of what we are losing2 the beauty of youth that dies is more beautiful because in death its radiance shines the brighter in our memory4 ,a good in contemplation comes to take the place of a lost good in reality4 ,just as we hold on the more tightly to things that are slipping away from us in a vain effort to keep them1 so to save ourselves from utter sorrow1 we build up in the imagination a fair image of what we have lost1 free of the dust of the world4 ,this makes the peculiar charm of the delicate and fragile1 of weak things and little things1 of the transient and perishable2 they awaken in us the tender1 protective impulse while they last1 and when they are gone they suffer at our hands an idealization which the strong and enduring can never receive4 ,our pity for them mediates an increased love of them2 we mock at fate which deprives us of them by keeping them secure and fairer in our memory4 ,as in life1 so in art4 ,beneath and around the pictured destruction and ruin there opens up to us a more poignant vision of the loveliness of what was or might have been4 ,at the end of ,the ,dram ,shop1 when ,gervaise sinks into ruin1 we inevitably revert to the beginning and see again1 only more intensely1 the gentle girl that she was1 or else1 going forward1 we imagine what she might have been1 if only she had been given a chance4 ,the form of a possible good rises up from under the actual evil4 ,the story of oppression becomes the praise of freedom2 the picture of death1 a vision of life4 ,i know of no finer example of this in all literature than ,sophocles' ,ajax4 ,ajax has offended ,athena1 so he1 the hero of the ,grecian host1 is seized with the mad desire to do battle with cattle and sheep4 ,in lucid intervals he laments to his wife the shameful fate which has befallen him4 ,how glorious his former prowess appears lost in so ridiculous a counterfeit6 ,and his despair creates its magic4 ,in almost all so-called tragedies1 true tragedy and pathos are intermingled2 for we feel both pity and admiration1 and the pity intensifies the admiration4 ,the danger that threatens or the disaster that overwhelms the values which the hero embodies make us realize their worth the more4 ,throughout the ,antigone we admire the heroine's tragic courage of devotion2 but it is at the point when1 just before her death1 she laments her youth and beauty that shall go fruitless-- ,alechron1 anymenaion1 oute ton gamon mepos lachousan oute paideion tpophaes that we feel the fullness of strength that was needed for the sacrifice4 ,one might perhaps think this lament a blemish of weakness in a picture of fortitude2 but the impression is just the opposite1 ,i believe2 for force is measured by what it overcomes4 ,there are so many different theories of tragedy that it would be impossible1 were it worth while1 to embark on a criticism of all of them4 ,there are certain ones1 however1 which1 because of their wide acceptance1 demand some attention at our hands4 ,first1 it is often assumed that a tragedy should represent the good as ultimately triumphing1 despite suffering and failure4 ,but how can the good triumph when the hero fails and dies8 ,only1 it is answered1 if the hero represents a cause which may win despite or even because of his individual doom2 and it is with this cause1 not with him1 that we chiefly sympathize4 ,this was ,hegel's view1 who demanded that the tragic hero represent some universal interest which1 when purged of the one-sidedness and uncompromising insistence of the hero's championing1 may nevertheless endure and triumph in its genuine worth4 ,in the ,antigone1 ,hegel's favorite example1 the cause of family loyalty finds recognition through the punishment of ,creon for the girl's death2 while at the same time the principle of the sovereignty of the state is upheld through her sacrifice4 ,there are many tragedies which conform1 at least partially1 to this scheme2 but not all1 hence it cannot be a universal norm4 ,in ,romeo and ,juliet1 for example1 although the death of the young people serves to bring about a reconciliation of their families1 the real principle for which they suffered--the right of private choice in matters of love--is in no way furthered by the outcome of the play4 ,and1 although it is always possible to universalize the good which is sought by any will1 it is not possible to deflect upon a principle the full intensity of our sympathy1 away from the individual1 concrete passion and action4 ,whenever a great personality is represented1 it is his personal suffering and fortitude that win at once our pity and our admiration4 ,for private sorrows1 for the ruin of character1 for the death of those whom we are made to love1 there can be no complete atonement in the universal2 because it is with the individual that we are chiefly concerned4 ,no2 the reconciliation lies where we have placed it--in tragedy1 in the personal heroism of the strong character2 in pathos1 in the vision1 not in the triumph1 of the good4 ,the ordinary ,protestant theological theory of tragedy is even more inadequate than the ,hegelian4 ,for1 by assuming that there is no genuine loss in the world1 that every evil is compensated for in the future lives of the heroes1 it takes away the sting from their sacrifice and so deprives them of their crown of glory4 ,it makes every adventure a calculation of prudence and every despair a farce4 ,it is remote from the reality of experience where men stake all on a chance and1 instead of receiving the good by an act of grace1 wring it by blood and tears from evil4 ,on much the same level of thinking is the moralistic theory which requires that the misfortunes of the hero should be the penalty for some fault or weakness4 ,this view1 which has the authority of ,aristotle1 is also based on the doctrine of the justice of the world-order4 ,it was pretty consistently carried out in the classical ,greek drama2 although there suffering is not exacted as an external retribution1 but as the inevitable consequence of the turbulent passions of the characters2 for even the punishment for offenses against the gods is of the nature of a personal revenge which they take4 ,later1 of course1 when the gods retreated into the background of human life1 retributive justice was conceived more abstractly4 ,now1 it must be admitted1 ,i think1 that this idea1 so deeply rooted in the popular mind1 has exerted a profound influence on the drama2 yet it cannot be applied universally without sophistry4 ,to be sure1 in ,romeo and ,juliet1 the young people were disobedient and headstrong2 in ,lear1 the old father was foolishly trustful of his wicked daughters2 these frailties brought about their ruin4 ,but did they deserve so hard a fate as theirs8 ,did not ,lear suffer as much for his folly as his daughters for their wickedness8 ,this is always true in life1 and ,shakespeare holds the mirror up to nature--but is it consistent with the theory of retributive justice8 ,one can usually trace back to some element of his nature1 physical or moral1 the misfortunes that befall an individual2 even those which we call accidents1 as ,galton claimed1 are often due to some inherent defect of attention which makes us fail to respond protectively at the right moment4 ,if we take the self to include the entire organism1 then it remains true that we cooperate as a partial cause in all that happens to us4 ,ophelia's weak and unresisting brain must share with the stresses which surrounded her the responsibility for her madness4 ,in this sense1 and in this sense only1 do we deserve our fate1 be it good or ill4 ,yet1 when interpreted in this broadest meaning1 retributive justice loses all ethical significance4 ,and the cosmic disharmony appears all the more glaring4 ,it ceases to be chargeable to an external fate or ,god1 to the environment or convention1 which might perhaps be mastered and remolded2 and is seen pervading the nature of reality itself1 no accidental circumstance1 but essential evil1 ineradicable4 ,the greatest tragic poets see it thus4 ,and then blame turns to understanding and resentment into pity4 ,retributive justice1 as the motive force of tragedy1 has for us lost its meaning4 ,we no longer feel the necessity of justifying the ways of ,god to man1 because we have ceased to believe that there exists any single1 responsible power4 ,the good is not a preordained and automatically accomplished fact1 but an achievement of finite effort1 appearing here and there in the world when individuals1 instead of contending against each other1 cooperate for their mutual advantage4 ,in addition to the comic1 there is much artistic representation of evil which can be classed neither as pathetic nor as tragic4 ,neither moral admiration nor idealization are aroused by the characters portrayed4 ,they may be great criminals like ,lady ,macbeth or ,iago1 or the undistinguished and disorderly people of modern realistic literature1 yet in either case we find them good to know4 ,and we do so1 not merely because we enjoy1 as disinterested onlookers1 the spectacle of human existence1 but because the artist makes us enter into it and realize its values4 ,for even that which from the moral point of view we pronounce evil is1 so long as it maintains itself1 a good thing from its own point of view4 ,every will1 however blind and careless1 seeks a good and finds it1 if only in hope and the effort to attain4 ,through the intimacy of his descriptions and often against our resistance1 the artist may compel us to adopt the attitude of the life which he is portraying1 constraining us to feel the inner necessity of its choices1 the compulsion of its delights4 ,it is difficult to abandon ourselves thus to sympathy with what is wrong in life itself1 because we have in mind the consequences and relations which make it wrong2 yet we all do so at times1 whenever we let ourselves go1 charmed by its momentary offering4 ,but in the world of art this is easier1 because there the values1 being merely represented1 can have no sinister effects4 ,when great personalities are portrayed1 this abandon is readiest2 for the strength or poignancy of their natures carries us away as by a whirlwind4 ,witness ,lady ,macbeth when she summons the powers of hell to unsex her for her murderous task1 or ,vanni ,fucci in the ,inferno1,footnote3 ,inferno1 ,canto #be1 #a-c4 who mocks at ,god4 ,for the instant1 we become as they and feel their ecstasy of pride and power as our own4 ,yet the great artist can awaken this sympathy even for characters that are small and weak4 ,in ,gogol's ,dead ,souls1 for example1 there are no heroes4 ,the most interesting characters are the country gentlemen who return to their estates planning to write books which will regenerate ,russia4 ,but the old habits of life in the remote district are too strong4 ,so1 instead of writing1 they fall back into the routine of their ancestors and merely smoke and dream4 ,here are failure and mediocrity2 yet so intimate is the artist's story that we not only understand it all1 but feel how good it is--to dream our lives away4 ,i do not doubt that in this story there are elements of pathos and comedy2 yet1 in general1 the delineation is too objective for either2 we neither laugh nor cry1 but are simply borne on1 unresisting1 ourselves become a part of the silent tide of ,russian life4 ,the problem of evil in aesthetics may finally be solved by the use of the comic4 ,for in comedy we take pleasure in an object which1 in the broadest sense1 is evil4 ,in order for an object to be comical there must be a standard or norm1 an accepted system1 within which the object pretends but fails to fit1 and with reference to which1 therefore1 it is evil4 ,there must be some points of contact between the object and the standard in order that there may be pretense1 but not enough points for fulfillment4 ,if we never had any definite expectations with reference to things1 never made any demands upon them2 if instead of judging them by our preconceived ideas1 we took them just as they came and changed our ideas to meet them1--there would be nothing comical4 ,or1 if everything fitted into our expectations and was as we planned it1 then again there would be nothing comical4 ,in a world without ideas1 the comic could not exist4 ,the comic depends upon our apperceiving an object in terms of some idea and finding it incongruous4 ,the most elementary illustrations demonstrate this4 ,the unusual is the original comic2 to the child all strange things are comical--the ,chinaman with his pigtail1 the negro with his black skin1 the new fashion in dress1 the clown with his paint and his antics4 ,as we get used to things1 and that means as we come to form ideas of them into which they will fit1 adjusting the mind to them1 rather than seeking to adjust them to the mind1 they cease to be comical4 ,so fashions in dress or manners which were comical once1 become matters of course and we laugh no longer4 ,enduringly comic are only those objects that persistently create expectations and as persistently violate them4 ,such objects are few indeed2 but they exist1 and constitute the perennial1 yet never wearying1 stock in trade of comedy4 ,but the comic spirit does not have to depend upon them exclusively1 for1 as life changes1 it constantly raises new expectations and offers new objects which at once provoke and fail to meet them4 ,everything1 therefore1 is potentially comical and1 in the course of human history1 few things can escape a laugh2 some curious mind is sure1 sooner or later1 to bring them under a new idea against which they will be shown up to be absurd4 ,the sanctities of religion1 love1 and political allegiance have not been exempt4 ,why1 if the comical object is always opposed to our demands1 should we take pleasure in it8 ,how can we be reconciled to things that are admittedly incongruous with our standards8 ,why are we not rather displeased and angry with them8 ,investigators have usually looked for a single source of pleasure in the comic1 but of those which have been suggested at least two1 ,i think1 contribute something4 ,first1 by adopting the point of view of the standard as our own1 identifying ourselves with it1 and through the contrast of ourselves with the object1 we may take pleasure in the resulting exaltation of ourselves4 ,the pleasure in the comic is often closely akin to that which we feel in distinction of any kind4 ,we feel ourselves superior to the object at which we laugh4 ,there is pride in much of laughter and not infrequently cruelty1 a delight in the absurdities of other men because they exalt ourselves as the representatives of the rational and normal4 ,there is often a touch of malice even in the laughter of the child4 ,nevertheless1 the pleasure in the comic is still contemplative1 and so far aesthetic1 because it is a pleasure in perception1 not in action4 ,no matter how evil be the comic object1 we do not seek to destroy or remodel it2 action is sublimated into laughter4 ,but the pleasure in the comic may arise through our taking the opposite point of view--that of the funny thing itself4 ,instead of upholding the point of view of the standard1 we may identify ourselves with the object4 ,if the comic spirit is oftentimes the champion of the normal and conventional1 it is as often the mischief-maker and rebel4 ,whenever the maintaining of a standard involves strain through the inhibition of instinctive tendencies1 to relax and give way to impulse causes a pleasure which centers itself upon the object that breaks the tension4 ,the intrusive animal that interrupts the solemn occasion1 the child that wittingly or not scoffs at our petty formalities through his naive behavior1 win our gratitude1 not our scorn4 ,they provide an opportunity for the welcome release of nature from convention4 ,and the greater the strain of the tension1 the greater the pleasure and the more insignificant the object or event that will bring relief and cause laughter4 ,the perennial comic pleasure in the risque is derived from this source4 ,there is an element of comic pleasure in the perpetration of any mischievous or unconventional act4 ,those things which men take most seriously1 ,schopenhauer has said1 namely1 love and religion1 and we might add1 morality1 are the most abundant sources of the comic1 because they involve the most strain and therefore offer the easiest chances for a playful release4 ,even utter and absolute nonsense is comical because it undoes all ,kant's categories of mind4 ,hence1 contrary to the theory of ,bergson1 the spontaneous as well as the mechanical and rigid may be comical4 ,sometimes the same object may be comical from both the points of view which we have specified2 this is always true1 as we shall see1 in the most highly developed comedy4 ,for example1 we may laugh at the child's prank because it is so absurd from the point of view of our grown-up expectations as to reasonable conduct1 and at the same time1 taking the part of the child1 rejoice at the momentary relief from them which it offers us4 ,our scorn is mixed with sympathy4 ,and oftentimes the child himself will hold both points of view at once1 laughing at his own absurdity and exulting nevertheless in his own freedom4 ,this is the essence of slyness4 ,it follows1 moreover1 that a thing which was comical for one of the reasons assigned may become comical for the other1 by a simple change in the point of view regarding it4 ,for the behavior which first pleased us because it was unconventional tends itself to become a new convention1 with reference to which the old convention then becomes the object of a laughter which is scornful4 ,the tables are turned3 the rebel laughs at the king4 ,the foregoing explanation of why we find the comical pleasant also explains why so many of our other pleasures are intermixed with the comical--why so often we not only smile when we are pleased1 but laugh4 ,for1 in the case of all except the most elementary enjoyments1 our pleasures are connected with the satisfaction of definite expectations regarding the actions or events of our daily lives4 ,but1 owing to the dulling effect of habit1 the pleasure attendant upon these satisfactions gradually becomes smaller and smaller or even negligible2 until1 as a result1 only the novel and surprising events which surpass our expectations give us large pleasure2 but these are comical4 ,with the child1 whose expectations are rigid and few in number because of his lack of discrimination and small experience1 almost all pleasures1 like almost all events1 are of the nature of surprises4 ,the child almost always laughs when he is pleased4 ,the slang phrase to be highly tickled expresses with precision this close connection between laughter and pleasure4 ,moreover1 as the complexity of life increases1 its strains and repressions are multiplied1 with the result that any giving way to an impulse contains a slight element of the mischievous or ridiculous2 whence1 for this reason too1 the pleasant is also the comical4 ,in fact1 most of the pleasures of highly complex and reflective persons are tinged with laughter4 ,we expect art to accomplish three great results--reconciliation1 revelation1 and sympathy4 ,so far we have shown how comic art may accomplish the first2 we have yet to prove how it may accomplish the rest4 ,in his book ,le ,rire1 ,bergson has expressed the view that comedy is explicitly falsifying and unsympathetic4 ,as to the former charge1 we can1 ,i think1 convince ourselves of the opposite if we examine certain of the more obvious methods of comedy1 particularly those which might seem at first sight to lend support to his contention4 ,one of the most common of these is exaggeration4 ,the simplest example is caricature1 where certain features of an object are purposely exaggerated4 ,the effect is1 of course1 comical1 because we expect the normal and duly-proportioned4 ,what a manifest falsification1 one might assert6 ,yet just the opposite is the actual result4 ,for every good caricaturist selects for exaggeration prominent and characteristic traits1 through which by the very emphasis that is placed upon them1 the nature of the individual is better understood4 ,another favorite method is abstraction4 ,certain traits are presented as if they were the whole man4 ,we get the typical comic figures of the novel and drama2 the physician who is only a physician2 the lawyer who injects the legal point of view into every circumstance of life2 the lover or the miser who is just love or greed2 the people who1 as in ,dickens1 meet every situation with the same phrase or attitude1 ,this1 too1 looks like a plain falsification of human nature1 because1 however strong be the professional bias or however overmastering the ruling passion1 real people are always more complex and many-sided1 having other modifying and counteracting elements of character which prevent their speech and actions from being completely monotonous and mechanical4 ,nevertheless1 we can again acquit the comic writer of falsification1 because we understand the method which he is employing1 the trick of his trade4 ,he deceives no one4 ,on the contrary1 he enables us to perceive the logic of certain elementary springs of character4 ,following the method of the experimentalist1 he selects certain aspects from the total complexity of a phenomenon and shows how they work when isolated from the rest4 ,and1 like the man of science1 he provides insight into the normal1 because we can accept his results as at least partially or approximately true4 ,art of this kind is abstract and therefore less valuable than the portrayal of the concrete2 yet only the dogmatist who insists on the restriction of art to the individual can reject it4 ,there is1 however1 a third common method of comical representation which neither exaggerates nor abstracts1 but preserves the concreteness of the finest art--we may call it the method of contrast4 ,it consists in exhibiting the contrast between the actual conduct of men and women and the standard1--either that which they themselves profess to live up to or our own1 which we impose upon them4 ,their pretenses are unmasked or their absurdities shown up against the ideal of reasonableness4 ,we behold the bourgeois who would be a gentleman remain bourgeois and the women who would be scholars remain women4 ,success in comedy of this kind depends upon possessing the ability to formulate the implicit assumptions underlying the behavior of the people portrayed or to make one's own standards with reference to them valid for the spectator4 ,here is no falsification1 but1 on the contrary1 a vivid revelation of the truth2 because1 just as by placing two colors in contrast with one another the hue of each is intensified1 so by setting man in relief against the background of what he ought to be1 we perceive his real nature more sharply4 ,as the child dressed like a grown-up appears all the more childish for his garb1 so man appears the more human for his pretenses4 ,to be sure1 in order to increase the comical effect1 this method is often employed in conjunction with that of exaggeration4 ,the ,athenian democracy was probably not quite so stupid as ,aristophanes represents it2 the average ,britisher is not so philistine as ,shaw paints him4 ,yet the measure of exaggeration may be small and we readily discount it4 ,and finally1 whereas in simple representation there is a revelation of the object only1 in comical representation there is a two-fold revelation1--of the ideal and of the incongruous reality4 ,the former is always indirectly revealed2 for1 as we know1 the very existence of the comic depends upon it4 ,the man who laughs1 his notion of the right and the reasonable1 his attitude towards the world and life1 become manifest through the things which he laughs at4 ,only a man of a certain kind1 with a certain sympathy and antipathy1 could laugh as he laughs4 ,the comic writer1 however much of a scoffer and a skeptic1 and however much he may deny it1 is always an idealist4 ,and it is for the revelation of themselves as much as for the revelation of the people whom they portray that we value the work of a ,swift1 a ,voltaire1 or a ,thackeray4 ,another charge which has been brought against the comic is that it is unsympathetic4 ,its attitude1 it is said1 is one of externality1 opposed therefore to the intimacy necessary for the complete aesthetic reaction4 ,whereas simple aesthetic representation places us within the object itself1 comical representation only exhibits a relation between it and an idea4 ,we judge it from our point of view1 not from its own4 ,the pleasure in pride and superiority which we feel towards the comical object seems also inconsistent with sympathy2 for sympathy would create a fellow feeling with it1 and place us not above1 but on a level with it4 ,if we do sympathize1 the comic object ceases to be comical and becomes pathetic4 ,we can find the follies and sins of men comical just so long as we do not sympathize with the sufferings which they entail4 ,there is nothing comical that may not also become pathetic2 and the difference depends exactly on the presence or absence of sympathy4 ,nothing1 for example1 is more pathetic than death2 yet if you keep yourself free of its sorrow1 there is nothing more comical--that man1 a little lower in his own estimation than the angels1 should come to this1 a lump of clay4 ,it is unquestionably true that a free1 disinterested attitude is essential to comedy4 ,you must not let yourself be carried away by any feeling2 if you are over-serious you cannot laugh2 you must keep to reflection and comparison4 ,yet this attitude is not utterly destructive of all feeling4 ,man is complex enough at once to feel and to reflect4 ,he can pity as well as laugh4 ,the pathetic and the comic are constantly conjoined--witness our feeling towards ,don ,quixote or towards any of the great characters of ,thackeray--we do not know whether to laugh or to cry4 ,and in the most effective comedy1 the standard applied to the comical object is not foreign1 but rather1 as we have observed1 the implicit standard of the object itself1 discernible only by the most intimate acquaintance with it4 ,the sting of laughter comes from our acceptance of it as valid for ourselves2 we blush and join in the laugh at ourselves4 ,the mischievous-comic1 moreover1 depends directly upon sympathy2 for it requires that we take the point of view of the funny thing2 our pleasure in it implies a secret sympathy for it--we hold it up to a standard1 yet all the time are in sympathy with its rebellion4 ,when we laugh at the prank of the child1 love is mixed with the laugh4 ,the dual nature of man as at once a partisan of convention and of the impulses that it seeks to regulate1 is nowhere better illustrated than in the comic4 ,finally1 disinterestedness is not peculiar to comedy2 for it pervades all art4 ,feeling must be dominated by reflection2 even pathos demands this1 for1 if we lose ourselves in sorrowful feeling1 no fair image can arise and steady us4 ,there is1 however1 much comedy that is obviously unsympathetic1 even hostile4 ,there is satire1 which condemns1 as well as humor which pardons4 ,the one blames the unexpected and unconventional1 the other sympathizes with it4 ,comedy is either biting or kindly4 ,the one is moralistic and reformatory in its aim1 the other is aesthetic and contemplative4 ,because of its failure in sympathy1 satirical comedy is incomplete as art4 ,it provides insight and pleasure in the object1 but no union with it4 ,it does not attain to beauty1 which is free and reconciling4 ,kindly comedy or humor1 on the other hand1 is full beauty1 combining sympathy with judgment1 abandon with reflection4 ,nevertheless1 satire tends inevitably towards humor4 ,for what we laugh at gives us pleasure1 and what pleases us we must inevitably come to like1 and what we like cannot long fail to win our sympathy4 ,i do not think that even a ,swift or a ,voltaire could have been irreconcilably opposed to a world which offered them so much merriment4 ,the satire1 which begins in moral fervor1 must end in understanding4 ,the bond that binds us to our fellows is too strong to be broken by the aloofness of our condemnation4 ,the same intelligence that discerns the incongruity between what men ought to be and what they are1 cannot fail to penetrate the impelling reasons for the failure4 ,only in humor is sympathetic insight complete4 ,satire has the temporal usefulness of a practical expedient1 humor the eternal value of beauty4 ,,chapter ,,vii ,,the ,,standard ,,of ,,taste ,our interest in art is seldom a matter of mere feeling or appreciation2 usually it is a matter of judgment as well4 ,beginning in feeling1 the sthetic experience passes over into comparison and estimation--into criticism1 and there finds its normal completion4 ,this1 which is evidently true of the aesthetic life of artists and connoisseurs1 is true also of average men4 ,we all enjoy the beautiful in silence1 but afterwards we want to talk about it to our friends4 ,if conversation about art were suppressed1 the interest in it would hardly survive4 ,on this side1 the enjoyment of art is intensely sociable1 for to the civilized man sociability means discourse4 ,but1 as ,kant pointed out1 it is characteristic of conversation about art that the participants try to reach agreement in their judgments without acknowledging common principles with reference to which disputes can be decided4 ,and yet1 since no man is content to hold an opinion all by himself1 but each tries to persuade the others of the validity of his own judgment1 it would seem as if there must be some axioms or postulates admitted by all4 ,hence what ,kant called the antinomy of taste3 ,thesis--the judgment of taste is not based on principles1 for otherwise we would determine it by proofs2 antithesis--the judgment of taste is based on principles1 for otherwise1 despite our disagreements1 we should not be quarreling about it4 ,in accordance with this situation1 two opposed theories of criticism have always existed4 ,on the one hand1 in face of the apparent lawlessness of beauty1 some thinkers have believed that there exist principles which can be applied to works of art to test their beauty with a certainty equal to that of the principles of logic in their application to inferences4 ,lessing1 for example1 in the ,hamburgische ,dramaturgic wrote that the laws laid down by ,aristotle in the ,poetics were as certain in their application to the drama as ,euclid's ,elements in geometry4 ,this comparison is a forcible statement of belief in the existence of aesthetic standards1 held by the entire classical tradition1 and still held by those who are spiritually akin to it1 although of course no one to-day would claim--and when it came to details ,lessing himself did not claim--that the judgment of ,aristotle or of any one else is infallible4 ,to-day those who believe in the possibility of rational aesthetic criticism think that reflection upon the purpose and methods of the arts results in the formulation of broad principles by means of which judgments of taste can be appraised and a community of taste achieved4 ,these principles1 they would admit1 are more difficult of application than the simpler logical rules1 owing to the greater subtlety and complexity of art1 yet1 when found1 have an equal validity within their own field4 ,on the other hand1 the view that there is no disputing about tastes has never lacked adherents4 ,according to this view1 criticism can be only a report of personal1 enthusiastic appreciation or repugnance without claim to universality4 ,anatole ,france1 surely a master of such criticism1 has expressed this conviction as follows3 ,l'estetique ne repose sur rien de solide4 ,c'est un chateau en ,pair4 ,on veut l'appuyer sur ,pethique4 ,mais il n'y a pas d'ethique4 ,il n'y a pas de sociologie 444 ,and again1 in the same preface to ,la ,vie ,litteraire3 ,pour fonder la critique1 on parle de tradition et de consentement universel4 ,il n'y en a pas4 ,l'opinion presque general1 il est vrai1 favorise certains oeuvres4 ,mais c'est en vertu d'un prejuge1 et nullement par choix et par effet d'une preference spontane4 ,les oeuvres que tout le monde admire sont celles que personne n'examine4 ,although the classic view is1 ,i think1 nearer the truth1 let us examine the arguments that may be advanced in favor of the impressionistic theory1 as it has been called4 ,what is there about aesthetic appreciation that makes it seemingly so recalcitrant to law8 ,first1 every aesthetic experience is unique1 and therefore1 it is claimed1 incomparable4 ,art is the expression of personality1 and personality is always individual4 ,but unique things are1 in the end1 incapable of classification1 hence are not amenable to general laws or principles4 ,of course1 works of art can be classified by following some abstract characteristic1 arranged in a series according as this quality is realized in them to a greater or less degree2 but1 in so far as a work is beautiful1 it contains at least one quality not possessed by other works1 the quality that gives it its distinctive flavor1--which is1 indeed1 its beauty4 ,the impressionist would admit1 for example1 that in intellectual power ,keats's ,eve of ,st4 ,agnes is inferior to ,wordsworth's ,intimations2 also that it lacks the moral grandeur of the latter2 but would claim1 on the other hand1 that in saying this1 one is far from judging the beauty of ,keats's poem1 because that is completely lacking in ,wordsworth4 ,so far as the poem is beautiful1 it is unique2 hence you get no farther with it through comparison with some other poem4 ,you either appreciate it absolutely or you do not2 if you do1 well and good2 you may then write a prose poem about it1 if you desire1 and so communicate some of your feeling for it to another person2 if you do not appreciate it1 no one can blame you or quarrel with you2 all that any one can do is to invite you to read again1 and1 perhaps through his eloquence1 seek to inspire you with--his own enthusiasm4 ,every work of art is superlative4 ,just as the lover thinks his sweetheart the most beautiful woman in the world1 so he who appreciates a work of art finds it supreme4 ,and among superlatives there is no comparison1 no better or worse4 ,from another point of view1 moreover1 the aesthetic experience seems unfavorable to comparison and classification4 ,for a work of art demands a complete abandon of self1 an entire absorption in it of attention and emotion4 ,every picture has a frame1 and every other work of art an ideal boundary to keep you in its world4 ,beyond the frame you shall not go2 beyond the stage you shall not pass2 beyond the outline of the statue you shall not look4 ,and if you do pass beyond1 you have lost the full intensity and flower of the experience2 and whatever comparisons you then make will not concern its original and genuine beauty4 ,every work of art is jealous2 to appreciate it aright1 you must for the moment appreciate it singly1 without thought of another4 ,finally1 the impressionist or skeptic would maintain that an alleged aesthetic principle would necessarily be abstracted from extant works of art2 hence could not be applied to new art4 ,a thing which does not belong within a class cannot be judged by principles governing that class4 ,in so far1 therefore1 as a work of art is original1 it must frustrate any attempt to judge it by traditional1 historical standards--and what other standards are there8 ,although the two facts of the aesthetic experience--its uniqueness and claim to complete sympathy--upon which the skeptical opinion can be based1 are undoubted1 the inferences deduced from them do not follow4 ,if they did follow1 the aesthetic experience would be fundamentally different from every other type2 it would be totally atomic and discrete1 instead of fluid and continuous like the rest4 ,but its apparent discreteness is due to a failure to distinguish between the silent1 unobtrusive working of comparison and the more obvious and self-conscious working4 ,when rapt in the contemplation of a work of art1 ,i may seemingly have no thought for other works2 relative isolation and circle-like self-completeness are characteristic of the aesthetic experience2 yet1 as a matter of fact1 the completeness of my reaction and the measure of my delight and absorption are partly determined by the accordance of the given work of art with a certain expectation or set of mind with reference to objects of its sort4 ,i can consent fully to the will of the artist only if he has first consented to my will as expressed in other works which ,i have enjoyed and praised4 ,the situation in aesthetics is no different from that which exists in any other field of values2 through many experiences of good things ,i come to form a type or standard of what such things should be like2 and1 if any new thing of the kind is presented to me1 ,i cannot be so well pleased with it if it does not conform4 ,the type may never be formulated by me explicitly1 yet it will operate none the less4 ,the formation of what is called good taste occurs by exactly this process4 ,the first work of art that ,i see1 if it please me1 becomes my first measure4 ,if ,i see a second1 in order to win my approval1 it will either have to satisfy the expectation aroused by the first1 or else surpass it4 ,in the latter case1 a standard somewhat different from the old is created through the new experience2 and1 when ,i have acquired a large acquaintance with works of art1 there grows up a standard which is the resultant of all of them--a type or schema no longer associated with particular works4 ,sometimes1 however1 it happens that the standard continues to be embodied in some one or few works which1 because of outstanding excellence1 serve as explicit paradigms governing judgment2 such works are classics in the true sense4 ,and the impressionist is certainly wrong in his contention that the aesthetic appreciation of a work of art excludes the recall of other works and conscious comparison with them4 ,it is only when appreciation is of the more naive sort that this is the case4 ,the trained observer1 on seeing one of ,vermeer's pictures1 for example1 cannot fail to think of other works of the same artist2 and1 if he is learned in the history of art1 he may even recall the whole development of ,dutch painting4 ,for the moment1 perhaps1 at the beginning1 the single work will completely absorb the attention2 but1 as we linger in appreciation and reflect upon it1 our memory is sure to work4 ,and the process of memory and comparison cannot be excluded on the ground that it is an external1 irrelevant context to appreciation2 for it actually functions to determine the degree of pleasure and absorption in a work of art4 ,moreover1 this process of memory and comparison is not confined to the individual observer2 it is social and historical as well4 ,all art movements are inspired by the desire to improve on1 or to create something different from1 the conserved tradition4 ,the process of creation itself involves comparison and the recognition of a standard4 ,and for our civilization at any rate these movements are international4 ,they are not the products of isolated discrete groups1 impenetrable to each other1 but of a relatively universal1 continuous experience4 ,as for the uniqueness of aesthetic value1 that1 to be sure1 is a fact2 yet uniqueness is never the whole of any object4 ,those aspects which ally it with other things are just as genuinely its own as those which differentiate it from them2 they equally are a part of its beauty4 ,the attempt to separate any part of a work of art from the rest as the real part is an unwarranted and arbitrary dismemberment4 ,the work is whole1 and beauty belongs to it as whole4 ,hence1 when1 through comparison1 you attend to the qualities that are shared with other works1 you are still judging the reality and beauty of the object1 quite as much as when you seek to taste its unique flavor4 ,a competent judgment can neglect no aspect4 ,the judgment that a work of art is better or worse than another in some general aspect touches it just as surely as the feeling for its distinctiveness4 ,and if it be true that so far as things are unique they are all on a level1 it is equally true that so far as they are not unique they are capable of being serialized1 and our total judgment upon them must follow the lines of comparison4 ,it is impossible1 therefore1 not to compare works of art one with another4 ,we will concede to the impressionist that anything which anybody finds beautiful is beautiful momentarily2 but we must insist on the everyday fact that1 because of the operation of the standard as a result of growing experience in art1 what once seemed beautiful often ceases to seem so4 ,and we must also insist that among the things surviving as beautiful we inevitably set up a hierarchy1 a scale4 ,a plurality of values1 each unique and in its own way indispensable to a complete world of values1 is not inconsistent with relations of higher and lower among them4 ,the impressionist has taught us to love variety and to renounce the bigotry of the old refusal to accept anything short of the highest4 ,but in aesthetics--and in ethics too1 ,i believe--the standpoint of ,spinoza rules3 ,god is revealed in the mouse as well as in the angel1 although less in the mouse than in the angel2 and1 ,i should add1 the revelation through the humbler mouse is necessary to a complete revelation of ,god1 that is1 of the ,good4 ,or1 as ,nietzsche said1 ,vieler ,edlern naemlich bedarf es1 dass es ,adel gebe6 ,our appreciation of ,midsummer ,night's ,dream does not prevent us from appreciating ,alice in ,wonderland1 just as our esteem for the man does not hinder our feeling for the peculiar charm of the child4 ,what takes place through the process of comparison is this3 we come increasingly to realize what we want of art4 ,every artist seeks to express something in terms of the material with which he works4 ,but it is only by experimenting with his medium that he learns what he can and what he cannot do2 and it is only by constant hospitable1 yet discriminating appreciation by us spectators that we1 in our turn1 discover what to demand of him and commend4 ,consider1 for example1 the history of painting4 ,that we want of a picture1 sometimes the delineation of emotion and action1 yes2 but above all and always1 the representation of visible nature1 with space and atmosphere and light--this purpose has been developed slowly and as the result of many experiments and comparisons4 ,but having won it1 we are secure in it4 ,we shall still appreciate the beauty of the primitives and academics1 but we shall not be able again to prefer them to the plein-airistes4 ,or recall the development of ,english poetry4 ,we still admit the contribution of ,dryden and ,pope1 but we shall never have to fight over again the battle won by ,wordsworth and his contemporaries for imagination and emotion4 ,our conception of the purpose of poetry has been enriched by an insight that we cannot permanently lose4 ,there are1 to be sure1 retrograde movements in the arts--like the ,pre-,raphaelite movement in painting--but they are soon recognized as such4 ,now with reference to the purpose of art to express in a given material1 there are1 ,i think1 a few general principles of judgment applying to all the arts1 implicitly or explicitly recognized in criticism1 and capable of formulation4 ,first1 the complete use of the medium4 ,we prefer1 other things being equal1 the work of art that has fully exploited the expressive possibilities of its medium to one that has failed to do so4 ,as an illustration1 ,i would cite the almost universal condemnation1 at the present time1 of neo-classical sculpture1 in which the touch values of the surfaces of statues were destroyed4 ,of course some compensating gain may be claimed--a greater visual purity2 yet1 as we shall see1 from the point of view of expression1 the gain was negligible compared with the loss4 ,so likewise1 unless the vers-libristes can show some positive gain in expression1--a power to do something that normal verse cannot do1 their work must rank lower than normal verse1 which makes fuller use of the rhythmic possibilities of language4 ,second1 the unique use of the material4 ,what we want of art depends1 not only on comparison between works of art belonging to the same genre1 but on comparison of the purposes of different genres1 indeed of the different arts themselves4 ,what we want of painting depends upon what we want of sculpture2 what we want of poetry depends upon what we want of painting and music4 ,we compare picture with picture2 but equally we compare picture with statue and poem4 ,we do not want the sculptor to try to do what the painter can do better1 and vice-versa2 or the poet to encroach on the domains proper to the musician and painter4 ,we do not want poetry to be merely imagistic or merely musical when we have another art that can give us much better pictures and still another that can give us much better music than any word-painting or word-music4 ,when we read a poem1 we do not want to be made to think how much better the same thing could be done in a different medium4 ,there is nothing so salutary in keeping an art to its proper task as a flourishing condition of the other arts4 ,here the great example is ,france1 where the limitations of the different arts have been best recognized all the while the highest level of perfection has been reached in many arts contemporaneously4 ,third1 the perfect use of the medium in the effort to fulfill the artistic purpose of sympathetic representation--the power to delight the senses and create sympathy for the object expressed1 on the one hand1 and the range of the vision of the object1 on the other2 the depth and the breadth of the aesthetic experience4 ,with reference to the former we ask3 how vividly does the work of art force us to see2 how completely does it make us enter into the world it has created2 and1 in doing this1 how poignantly has it charmed us1 how close has it united us to itself8 ,the measure of this is partly subjective and irreducible to rules2 yet experience in the arts establishes a norm or schema of appreciation through the process of comparison1 largely unconscious1 by which what we call good taste is acquired4 ,there are certain works of art that seem to have fulfilled this requirement in the highest possible degree1 thus attaining to perfection within their compass4 ,such1 for example1 are some of ,sappho's or ,goethe's lyrics1 or the ,fifth ,canto of the ,inferno4 ,nothing more perfect1 more beautiful of their kind can be conceived4 ,and to see how works of art may differ in degree of perfection of sympathetic vision1 one has only to recall lesser works expressing the same themes4 ,yet we recognize greater works even than those cited--works in which1 although the sympathetic vision is no more penetrating and compelling1 it is broader1 more inclusive4 ,goethe's ,faust is greater than any of his lyrics because the range of experience which it expresses is vaster4 ,a ,velasquez is greater than a ,peter ,de ,hooch because1 in addition to an equal beauty of expression through color and line and composition1 an equal dominion over light and space1 it contains a marvelous revelation of the inner life1 which is absent from the latter4 ,according to ,berenson1 no one has yet painted the perfect landscape because thus far only a certain few aspects have been expressed1 but not all4 ,there are1 ,i think1 certain qualities which are generally recognized as necessary to the perfect fulfillment of the artistic purpose of a work2 which follow1 indeed1 from the very meaning of art4 ,thus1 without uniqueness and freshness there can be no perfection in artistic expression4 ,a well-worn or even an identical expression may have value in the solution of a practical problem1 or in bringing men into good-natured relationships with one another in social life2 as when1 for example1 the officer cries ,halt6 repeatedly1 or we say ,good morning at breakfast2 because1 in such cases1 the expression gets its significance from the context in which it belongs4 ,but in art1 where expression is freed from the particular setting within which it arises1 thus attaining universality1 the repetitious and imitative1 having no environment from which they may derive new meaning1 are purposeless4 ,they are1 indeed1 worse than negligible1 because having grown into the habit of expecting originality1 we are disappointed and bored when we fail to find it4 ,originality is1 of course1 relative2 it is not incompatible with the reminiscence of old works--what works of art are not reminiscent8--but it does prohibit saying the old things over again in the same medium2 the artist must have a new message to put into the medium2 or else1 if the old themes are still near to his heart1 he must invent a new form in which to express them1 from which they will derive a new music4 ,closely allied to freshness are spontaneity and inner necessity1 the signs of a genuine1 as opposed to a factitious1 expression4 ,if we get the impression from a work of art that no part could be otherwise--not a single line or note or stroke of the brush--then we have the same sort of feeling towards it that we have towards the living thing that was not made by hands capriciously1 but grew in its inevitable way in accordance with the laws of its own nature4 ,of course1 works of art are products of thought1 of plan1 and conscious purpose2 they are seldom composed all at one flash1 but grow tentatively into their final form2 nevertheless1 in the words of ,kant1 ,a work of art must look like nature1 albeit we know that it is art4 ,sense charm and order are also necessary2 for they are the conditions of a perfect sympathy and vision4 ,we are indulgent towards the vigorous1 impatient passion that bubbles over into rough and careless music or poetry1 but are not satisfied with it4 ,for art's task is not merely to express1 but to dominate through expression1 to create out of expression1 beauty2 and without order and charm of sense1 there is no beauty4 ,compose your passion1 we say to the musician2 pattern it forth1 we say to the poet2 it will not lose its vigor2 rather it will acquire a new power2 for thus it will achieve restraint1 the sign of art's dominion4 ,the recognition of the principles indicated presupposes1 of course1 that art really has a purpose with reference to which it can be judged as successful or unsuccessful4 ,but ,i do not see how this can very well be denied4 ,art is one of the oldest of human activities1 one might almost say institutions1 and it is inconceivable that it should not have been directed by some intention1 conscious or unconscious4 ,to be sure1 men have expressed this intention in varying1 often in inconsistent ways1 but the same is true of all other human activities and institutions4 ,few would deny1 ,i suppose1 that science and the state have purposes2 yet how various have been the definitions of them4 ,these variations have corresponded1 without doubt1 to adaptations to new conditions1 yet throughout some unique purpose in human life has been subserved4 ,so with art4 ,art has been identified now with one interest and now with another2 what people want of art differs from one age to another1 and each must define that for itself2 yet throughout there has been a core of identity in the purposes it has served4 ,in our own age we witness the attempt to distinguish the purpose of art from the purposes of other elements of civilization1 with which it has often been fused and confused1--science1 religion1 morality4 ,correspondingly we witness the effort to limit the functions of political control2 to take from its jurisdiction religion1 culture1 love4 ,and this effort is for the sake of a fuller and freer realization of values4 ,furthermore1 not only has art a general function1 but this function is differentiated among the different art forms and genres4 ,no work of art can be judged without reference to its function4 ,its beauty consists in the fulfillment of this function4 ,now this function is1 of course1 largely unique for each art form and for each particular work of art1 and every work has to be judged with reference to its individual purpose1 yet a knowledge of other works of the same artist and the same genre1 and of the general history of art1 helps to divine this purpose and to judge of its relative success4 ,there is a large measure of continuity in the intentions of a given artist and school of art4 ,the development of painting in the last century is a striking illustration of such continuity4 ,the painters sought to develop a definite tradition1 thinking of themselves as carrying further the work of their predecessors4 ,of course these developments were largely technical in character1 but beauty itself is the fruition of technique4 ,the people who base a skeptical opinion upon the historical changes in taste forget that taste is necessarily a growth2 that it is developed by trial and error1 through and despite the following of many false paths4 ,only if the standard were something delivered to men by divine revelation--as indeed the old dogmatists came very close to believing-- would it be strange and inconsistent for changes to occur4 ,but if1 as is the fact1 the standard is experimental and representative of actual artistic purposes1 then change is normal4 ,moreover1 the standard is not single and absolute1 but plural and relative4 ,growth in taste means not only development along a given line1 within a given form1 but enlargement through the origination of new forms and beauties4 ,it is not like the straight line growth of an animal1 but rather radial1 like the growth of a plant1 sending out branches in every direction4 ,an art may attain to perfection in a certain genre1 and then continue only through the creation of new types4 ,thus sculpture and architecture reached a kind of perfection in the classic1 beyond which it was impossible to go--the only possible development lay in the creation of new types4 ,if it is true1 then1 that the existence of standards has a sound basis in the aesthetic experience1 how can their apparent failure to work and secure unanimity of judgment be explained8 ,how account for the actual chaos of judgment8 ,partly1 at least1 because many judgments passed on works of art are not aesthetic judgments at all4 ,these must be eliminated if any consensus is to be won4 ,we may call these judgments pseudo- sthetic judgments4 ,they fall naturally into several classes1 which it will be worth while to describe4 ,first1 there is the very large class of partisan judgments--judgments based1 not upon a free appreciation1 but upon some personal predilection or transient appeal4 ,to this class belong the special preferences of boyhood and youth--the liking for ,cooper and ,jules ,verne1 for example-- and those due to nationality1 like the ,englishman's choice of ,thackeray and the ,frenchman's of ,balzac1 or1 what is a more flagrant case1 the long resistance of the ,french public to the beauty of ,wagner's music4 ,the former type of judgment is corrected by the simple process of maturing1 when the beauties appreciated in youth are not lost1 but only given their due place in the hierarchy of aesthetic values2 the latter type1 on the other hand1 being more deeply based1 is more difficult to remedy4 ,but that even this prejudice can be largely overcome is shown by the example of critics who1 through prolonged sympathetic study1 come to prefer the art of a foreign land4 ,a notable example of this is ,meier-,graeffe1 who condemns almost all of modern ,german painting and exalts the ,french4 ,footnote3 ,see his ,modern ,art1 and his special studies of ,manet1 ,renoir1 and ,degas4 ,patriotic preferences are so difficult to overcome because they spring from limitations of sympathy4 ,sympathy depends upon acquaintance1 and few of us can acquire the same expertness in an alien language or artistic form that we possess in our own4 ,yet1 understanding the reason for these deficiencies of judgment1 we can go to work to improve them1 through increasing our knowledge of foreign art4 ,no less inevitable psychologically is the preference for works of art that treat of the problems and conditions of contemporary life4 ,part of this1 to be sure1 is expressive merely of some transient mood of the popular mind4 ,the enthusiasm1 happily passing1 for the plays of ,brieux or the craze for ,algerian landscapes in ,france after the acquirement of the colony1 are examples4 ,such preferences1 being superficially motivated1 correct themselves with ease1 giving way to some new fashion in taste4 ,the preference for works of art that reflect the more serious and permanent problems of contemporary society is more firmly rooted4 ,men inevitably seek the artistic expression of the things that deeply concern them4 ,the problems of the reconstruction of the family1 of the working classes1 and of government must continue to inspire art and to determine our interest in it1 until new difficulties occupy our minds4 ,the mere passage of time1 however1 brings a remedy for critical injustices flowing from this source2 for1 when present problems are solved1 the difference between living art1 which expresses them1 and historical art1 vanishes4 ,then1 only those works which reflect the eternal enigmas have any advantage over the others4 ,the same process tends to eliminate the prejudice1 rooted in temperament1 in favor of the old and familiar in art2 or1 following a different bent1 in favor of the new and startling4 ,in such cases1 a just estimate can be made only when the new becomes the old1 and both are reduced to a common level4 ,another type of pseudo-aesthetic judgment is the imitative4 ,by this ,i mean the judgment which is made because somebody else has made it1 particularly somebody in authority4 ,the imitative judgment is the expression1 in the field of aesthetics1 of what ,trotter has called herd instinct1 ,footnote3 ,see his ,the ,herd ,instinct in ,peace and ,war1 first part4 the tendency on the part of the gregarious animal to make his acts and habits conform to those of another member of the same group1 particularly if that member is a leader or represents the majority4 ,the dislike of loneliness and the love of companionship operate1 as we have already had occasion to notice1 even in the sphere of the spirit4 ,differences here separate people just as other differences do4 ,in art1 herd instinct tends to make the judgment of the authoritative or fashionable critic take the place of spontaneous and sincere judgment4 ,i do not mean that such judgments are usually consciously insincere2 although they often are so1 since men seek to ingratiate themselves by flattering even the aesthetic opinions of those whose love or protection they desire4 ,i do mean1 however1 that they tend to suppress opinions which would reflect an autonomous appreciation4 ,moreover1 whatever may be said for herd-instinct in the realm of politics and morals1 where the need for common action makes necessary some sort of consensus among the members of a group1 very little can be said for it in aesthetics1 where no practical issues are directly involved4 ,there1 herd instinct simply substitutes sham appreciation for a vital and healthy reaction4 ,of course1 imitative judgments must be distinguished from those that agree because they are based on a genuine contagion or community of feeling4 ,this distinction may be a difficult one for the outsider to make2 but is not so for the individual concerned4 ,i do not deny the value of authority in aesthetics2 what ,i am inveighing against is the substitution of authority for sincerity4 ,in art1 the suasion of the norm should be absolutely free1 with no penalty except isolation from the best4 ,the only value of authority is to counteract laziness and superficiality of appreciation2 to stimulate those who would rest content with first impressions to a more studious and attentive examination4 ,yet1 however great be our natural desire to convince others of beauty1 we want their conviction to be as sincere as our own3 we do not want it to be factitious1--suggested or dragooned4 ,it is often too easy1 rather than too hard1 to win agreement4 ,the question of the place of authority in aesthetics is raised again by a consideration of another class of pseudo-aesthetic judgments1 which ,i shall call ignorant judgments4 ,these judgments are perfectly sincere1 but express an aesthetic experience that is imperfect1 owing to defective understanding of art4 ,so many people judge works of art as if they could assimilate them immediately1 without any knowledge of their purpose and technique4 ,they fail to recognize that a work of art has a language1 with a vocabulary and grammar1 which has to be mastered through study4 ,a work of art is a possibility of a certain complex of values1 not a given actuality that can be grasped by merely stretching out the hand4 ,very little of any work of art is given--just a few sense stimuli2 the rest is an emotional and meaningful reaction1 which has to be completed in a determinate fashion4 ,a work of art is a question to which the right answer has to be found4 ,and in order to find the answer1 it is necessary to know both what to look for and what not to look for4 ,for example1 in judging ,japanese prints1 one must realize1 from the limitation of the medium1 that one cannot look for all the fullness of expression of shadow and atmosphere possible in an oil painting2 or in judging decorative or post-impressionistic painting1 one must realize that the purpose of the artist is chiefly to obtain musical effects from color and line1 not to represent nature realistically4 ,because works of art are ideals1 possibilities of experience1 and not given things which everybody can appreciate without knowledge and effort1 ,i am skeptical of all results obtained in laboratories of experimental aesthetics1 where college students are asked to judge works of painting1 music1 and sculpture4 ,an uninstructed majority vote cannot decide any question in aesthetics4 ,such experiments1 with the exception of those that concern the most elementary reactions1 yield interesting statistical results about the groups employed as subjects1 but are of no value in aesthetics4 ,and what wonder that we should find people disagreeing in their judgments when1 because of ignorance1 they are not reporting about the same objects6 ,finally1 an aesthetic consensus is possible only if non-aesthetic standards and all judgments based on false conceptions of the purpose of art are eliminated4 ,some of these judgments ,i have already discussed--the scientific and the moralistic4 ,the purpose of art is sympathetic vision1 not scientific truth or edification4 ,it is often necessary1 in order to win a vision of actual life1 for the artist to possess scientific knowledge2 but only as a means1 not as an end4 ,and again1 insight into the more enduring preferences of men and the conditions of their happiness1 upon which rational moral standards are founded1 is indispensable to a complete interpretation of life2 but there is much of life that can be envisaged sympathetically1 that is1 artistically and beautifully1 with small hold on ethical wisdom4 ,no one1 ,i suppose1 would regard de ,maupassant as a wise man in the ,greek sense of possessing a philosophical grasp of the norms which make up the conscience of men1 yet few would deny him the supreme gift of delineating the pathos and comedy of passion4 ,i do not doubt that men will always judge works of art from abstract standpoints2 that to-day they will judge them from the points of view of science and morals1 since we are so dominated by their sway2 but ,i do claim that these standards are not aesthetic1 and that so long as they control our estimates of art1 there can never be anything except chaos in taste2 for they will always come into conflict with the genuinely aesthetic point of view4 ,and1 ,i ask1 why not grant to art its autonomy8 ,if art has a unique purpose1 different from that of science or morals1 why should we not judge it in terms of that purpose8 ,of course1 since man's nature is one1 not many1 it will always be impossible entirely to get rid of the non-aesthetic bases of judgment4 ,personal predilection for a certain kind of subject-matter1 patriotic preference for one's own language and style1 the influence of authority and the lure of the crowd1 the intrusion of the moralistic and the scientific bias1--all these must1 to a greater or less degree1 divide and dispute the hegemony of taste4 ,nevertheless1 although it is impossible to reach a pure aesthetic judgment1 we ought to strive to approach it1 and1 by dint of training and clear thinking about art1 we can approach it4 ,we ought to do this1 not because of any formalism or purism1 but for the sake of preserving the unique value of art1 which is covered up or destroyed by the intrusion of non-aesthetic standards of judgment4 ,for judgment does influence feeling1 especially such a delicate and subtle thing as aesthetic feeling4 ,the patriotic and the partisan judgments narrow appreciation1 the imitative substitute a judgment for a feeling1 the moralistic and scientific prejudices often inhibit the possibility of the aesthetic reaction at the start1 or1 if they allow it to begin1 prevent the full sympathy and abandon which are required for its consummation4 ,we can get scientific truth from science1 why then seek it in art8 ,we can obtain moral wisdom from the philosopher and priest1 why require it of the artist8 ,reformers and statesmen will enlighten us concerning reconstruction1 why not turn to them8 ,i do not mean1 of course1 that art may not express the mystery and the wonder of science1 the voice of conscience1 the cry of distress2 but even this is not science1 or sociology1 or morals2 and art must and should also express dark passion1 hot hate or love1 and joy--in the sea1 in sunlight1 in the shadow of leaves on the grass1 in the bodies of men and women--and the other myriad forms of human life and nature that are neither right nor true1 but simply are4 ,and furthermore3 the tyranny of the scientific and the moral is the death of art4 ,art can live only when free4 ,so long as men are subject to the exclusive habit of condemning and praising and analyzing and classifying1 they are incapable of a free envisagement and expression4 ,between sociology and ,puritanism1 the artistic novel and the drama have become all but impossible in this country4 ,during the nineteenth century1 the predilection1 among the ,pre-,raphaelites1 for the scientific and moral nearly killed landscape painting in ,england1 its birthplace4 ,and only in ,france1 where alone of modern nations the moral and hygienic attitude towards the human body has not completely driven out the artistic1 has there been a vital and enduring sculpture4 ,if the aesthetic judgment is given autonomy1 a sure foundation for aesthetic norms can be established1 because then art will be judged with reference to a perfectly definite purpose4 ,feeling will always tell us whether a thing is beautiful or not2 but feeling itself will depend upon whether the implicit purpose of art has been realized2 and1 when we reflectively consider a work in relation to other works1 we shall have a solid basis for comparison4 ,judgment will have a foundation in reason as well as in feeling4 ,we shall ask of the artist1 not whether he has instructed us or edified us1 but solely whether he has given us a new and sympathetic vision of some part of our experience4 ,the kind of vision that he gives us will depend1 of course1 upon the materials of his art--it will be one thing in sound1 another in color or line or patterned words4 ,even as we demand of art in general a unique value1 as fulfilling a unique function1 so we shall demand of the different arts that each provide us with the unique beauty which its materials can create4 ,we shall therefore commend the separation of the arts and view with suspicion any attempt to fuse them4 ,whatever be his materials1 we shall demand of the artist always the same result3 that he make us see1 and command our sympathy and delight for his vision4 ,any judgment that we make1 or any standard that we set up1 must proceed upon a knowledge of this master purpose and of the materials and technique of the particular art through which it is to be realized4 ,and such standards1 experimental and tentative1 but nevertheless potent and directive1 are capable of discovery and formulation4 ,some of the larger and more important of these we shall try to set forth in our chapters on the special arts4 ,an artist who works within these standards is sure to produce something beautiful2 one who breaks them will fail or1 rarely1 find some hitherto undiscovered1 surprising beauty in the medium4 ,there still remains for consideration the fear lest the recognition of standards may discourage new experiments and so interfere with the creative impulse4 ,it is true that tragedies have occurred when criticism has been unsympathetic and malicious--remember ,keats and the struggles of the early ,french impressionistic painters--but even then ,i doubt if any real harm to art has resulted4 ,for the situation in aesthetics differs from the situation in ethics and politics where the retarding effect of convention is undeniable4 ,in art there can never be the same closeness of alliance between convention and vested interests that is so repressive a force in the world4 ,it is probably true indeed that1 as ,plato said1 when the modes of music change1 so do constitutions change2 for example1 there is doubtless to-day some connection between imagist poetry1 post-impressionistic painting1 ,russian music1 and revolutionary sentiment--witness1 in our own country1 ,the ,masses and ,the ,seven ,arts--but the link is too delicate to alarm the powers that be4 ,the upholding of a standard must be allied with material interests if it is to be repressive of creation and novelty4 ,but1 as a free force1 operating solely by influence1 the standard has the effect only of keeping alive the love of excellence1 and1 by providing some stability in the old1 creating that contrast between the new and the old1 so stimulating to the new itself4 ,for the impulse to originate operates best alongside of and in opposition to the desire to conserve4 ,france has been the great originator in the plastic arts during recent times2 but it has also been the only country where a genuine traditional standard has existed4 ,when tradition is based on experiments1 as in art1 it cannot be in essence hostile to them4 ,and all valid aesthetic principles are sufficiently broad and abstract not to interfere with novelty and creation4 ,when such principles as we have tried to formulate are admitted1 the world of aesthetic judgments can be organized and some consensus about the beautiful achieved4 ,without an approach to a consensus1 the aesthetic impulse can never be content2 for it is indefeasibly sociable4 ,agreement in judgments depends upon a common experience1 and this also art can provide4 ,for beauty is constituted of elementary reactions to sense stimuli which are well-nigh universal among men1 and of symbols and meanings which can be learned like any language4 ,the delight in harmony and balance1 order and symmetry and rhythm1 and again1 the pleasure in the unique and well finished1 are felt by every one4 ,the entire form side of art1 its structure or design1 is based on fundamental and enduring elements of human nature4 ,the symbolism of sensation1 its musical expressiveness1 as we have called it1 is rooted likewise in reactions and interpretations that either are1 or may become1 through suggestion and training1 common property4 ,there are1 of course1 the people who have no feeling for tones1 and through defective memory for tones1 no appreciation of musical design2 there are also those who are insensitive to color and line4 ,in many cases1 through the training of the attention1 these defects can be overcome2 yet1 in others1 they are permanent and incurable4 ,this fact limits the universality of art2 oftentimes1 when two people are discussing a work1 they are not talking about the same object2 for a large part of its potentialities are lost to one of them4 ,nevertheless1 the validity of empirical standards among those who are capable of appreciating the whole of a work of art is not touched by this fact4 ,those who can agree1 ultimately will agree4 ,as for art as representation1 that is a language readily acquired4 ,it is an easier and more natural language than ordinary speech4 ,what is meant by the colors and lines of a painting or statue1 or by the mimic of the drama1 is immediately grasped by any intelligent person2 for to make use of images of things in order to represent them is a universal habit among men4 ,the painting and sculpture of the ,chinese are intelligible to us2 not so their speech4 ,of course1 to some extent1 the language of painting and sculpture is conventional2 the limits of accuracy of imitation are not set by nature1 except at the extremes1 but by the tradition or practice of painters4 ,yet the convention is a simple one1 easily understood and accepted4 ,,chapter ,,viii ,,the ,,aesthetics ,,of ,,music ,in this and the following chapters which treat of the arts1 ,i plan to make a concrete application of the aesthetic theory thus far developed4 ,i want to show how the general principles which we have tried to establish can be used to explain the facts of our artistic experience4 ,in doing this ,i shall hope to achieve a double purpose3 first1 to verify anew our theory of art1 and second1 to deepen and enlighten appreciation4 ,i begin with music because1 as we shall see1 there is a musical factor in all the arts1 an understanding of which at the beginning will enable us to proceed much more easily in our survey of them4 ,i shall confine myself to an elementary analysis2 for a more detailed study would take us beyond the bounds of general aesthetics and would require a knowledge of the special technique of the arts which we cannot presuppose4 ,moreover1 we shall not concern ourselves with the origin or history of the arts further than is needful for an understanding of their general character4 ,we are investigating the theory1 not the history1 of taste1 and are more interested in the present developed aesthetic consciousness than in its rudimentary forms4 ,as we appreciate it to-day1 music lends itself readily to our definition of art4 ,it is a personal expression--who1 when listening to music which he enjoys1 does not feel himself poured forth in the tones8 ,it is social and public--what brings us together under the sway of a common emotion more effectively than concert or opera8 ,it is a fixed and permanent expression1 for we can renew it so long as men preserve the score where it is written2 and1 finally1 it is free--who can find any practical or moral or scientific purpose in an etude of ,chopin or a symphony of ,mozart8 ,music is the most signal example of a mode of expression that has attained to a complete and pure aesthetic character1 an unmixed beauty4 ,yet this was not true of music in its earlier forms1 and a long process of development was necessary before freedom was realized4 ,for we must look for the beginning of music in any and all sounds through which primitive men sought to express and communicate themselves4 ,these were1 first of all1 the cries of the human voice1 expressive of fear and need and joy--at once direct outpourings of basic emotions and signals to one's fellows1 to help1 to satisfy1 and to sympathize4 ,in the voice nature provided man with a direct and immediate instrument for the expression and communication of himself through sound4 ,then1 perhaps by accident1 man discovered that he could make sounds in other ways1 through materials separate from his body1 and so he constructed drums and cymbals and gongs2 and by means of these1 too1 he communicated his needs and stimulated himself to rage and excitement--and his enemy to fear--in war dance and battle rush4 ,and in doing this he was imitating nature1 whose noises1 exciting and terrifying1 he had long known3 the clap of thunder1 the whistle of the wind1 the roar of the waves1 the crackling of burning wood1 the crash of fallen and breaking things4 ,out of unbeautiful noise sprang beautiful music4 ,men discovered that through the voice they could make not only expressive noises1 but also pleasant tones2 they found1 perhaps by accident1 that they could do much the same thing with reeds and strings2 they observed that when they beat their drums at regular intervals to mark the motion of the dance1 they not only danced together more easily1 but also experienced joy in the very sounds they made2 or that when they threshed the corn with rhythmic strokes or rowed a boat in rhythmic unison1 their task was lightened and their wearied attention distracted to the pleasure of their noise4 ,hence at their dances of love or war or religion1 they sang instead of shouted2 and their instruments of irregular and expressive noise became instruments of rhythmical and melodious tones4 ,eventually1 having experienced the pleasure there is in tones and rhythmical sounds1 they made them for their own sake1 apart from any connection with tribal festivals1 and the free art of music was born4 ,and yet1 as we shall see1 the significance of music depends largely upon the fact that tones are akin to noises2 music could not take such a hold of the emotions of men did they not overhear in the tones the meaningful and poignant noises of voice and nature2 to understand music1 we must think of it against its background of expressive noise4 ,in music we still seem to hear a voice that breaks the silence and speaks1 the thunder that terrifies4 ,the material of music consists of tones1 the conscious counterparts of periodic1 longitudinal vibrations of the air4 ,tones differ among themselves in many attributes1 of which the following are of chief importance for music3 pitch1 determined by rate of vibration1 through which tones differ as higher and lower2 color1 determined by the complexity of the vibration wave1 the presence of overtones of different pitch along with the fundamental tone in the total sound2 intensity1 dependent upon the amplitude of the vibration1 through which tones of the same pitch differ as soft or loud2 and finally1 quality1 that specific character of a tone1 by reason of which middle ,c1 for example1 is more like the ,c of the octave below or above than like its nearer neighbors1 ,b or ,d1 whence the series of tones1 although in pitch linear and one-dimensional1 is in quality periodic1 returning again and again upon itself1 as we go up or down the scale4 ,footnote3 ,see ,geza ,revesz3 ,tonpsychologie4 ,the number of qualities in use in music--twelve in our scale of equal temperament--is1 of course1 not all there are in the world of tones2 they are a human and arbitrary selection1 governed by technical and historical motives1 into which we shall not enter4 ,peoples with a different culture have made a different selection4 ,but we are not concerned with the music of angels or of orientals1 but with our own4 ,with these twelve1 with their possible variations in pitch1 loudness1 and tone-color1 the musician has a rich and adequate material4 ,all the elements of an aesthetic experience are present in striking simplicity even in the single musical tone4 ,there is the sensuous medium1 the sound2 there is a life expressed1 a feeling aroused in us1 yet so completely objectified in the sound that it seems to belong to the latter on equal terms with color or quality or loudness2 there is a unity and variety and orderly structure in the dominance of the fundamental among the overtones and the fusion of all in the total clang4 ,thus every note is a complete little aesthetic organism4 ,yet the beauty of single tones is very slight1--less1 ,i think1 than that of single colors2 they need the contrast or the agreement in consonance with other tones in order to awaken much feeling2 they must be members of a wider whole2 observe how1 when sounded after other tones1 they become enriched through the contrasting or consonant memory of those tones4 ,nevertheless1 the single tone has its feeling1 however slight1 and to understand this is to go a long way toward understanding the more complex structures of music4 ,in the first place1 tones1 unlike noises1 are all pleasant4 ,although we cannot be sure why this is true1 there can be little doubt1 ,i think1 that the regularity of the vibrations of the former1 in contrast with the irregularity of the latter1 is largely responsible4 ,the clang1 with its ordered complexity1 is a stimulus that incites the sense organ and connected motor tracts to a unified and definite response1 unlike noise1 which creates confusion4 ,the pleasure in the single tone is similar1 in its causes1 to the pleasure in the consonance of two tones4 ,as we should expect from this analogy1 the pleasure is greater in rich tones1 which contain many partials1 than in thin tones1 which are relatively uninteresting4 ,but the feeling of tones is something more than mere pleasantness2 it is also a mood4 ,now this mood of tones is partly due to associations1--some superficial in character1 like the pastoral quality of flute tones or the martial character of bugle tones1 others more fundamental2 but it has also a still deeper-lying root4 ,for a sound stimulus awakens not only a sensory process in the ear1 the correlative of which is a sensation1 but also incipient motor reactions1 which1 if carried out1 would be an emotion1 but which1 being too slight and diffuse1 produce only what we call a mood4 ,every sensation has a meaning for the organism in an environment where it has constantly to be on its guard for danger or assistance2 every sensation is therefore connected with the mechanism of reaction1 with its attendant emotions4 ,in ordinary experience1 there are objects present to which the organism may actually respond1 but in the aesthetic experience there are no real objects towards which a significant reaction can take place2 in music1 the source of the sound is obviously of no practical importance1 while in such arts as painting and sculpture where interesting objects are represented1 the objects themselves are absent2 hence the reaction is never carried out1 but remains incipient1 a vague feeling which1 finding no object upon which it may work itself off1 is suffused upon the sensation4 ,these sense feelings are the subtle1 but basal1 material of all beauty4 ,the variety of moods expressed in tones is almost endless4 ,when we experience them1 they come to us as the inner life of the total concrete tones1 but they depend actually upon the working together of all the tonal attributes1--color1 quality1 pitch1 and loudness4 ,there is the subtle intimacy of violin tones compared with the clear arresting ring of the trumpet2 the emotional differences between qualities like ,c and ,g1 too delicate for expression in words2 the piercing excitement of the high1 bright tones1 compared with the earnest depth of the low1 dull tones2 the almost terrifying effect of loud tones compared with the soothing influence of soft tones4 ,the precise psychophysical mechanism through which the different moods are aroused is for the most part hidden from us2 yet in certain particulars we can form some idea of it4 ,for example1 the richness of feeling in the tones of certain instruments as compared with others is doubtless due to the fact that through the presence of more overtones and the admixture of noise1 the reaction is more complex2 the tense excitement of high and loud tones1 as compared with the soft and low1 is probably connected with the fact that their higher vibration rate and greater amplitude of vibration produce a more marked effect1 a more pervasive disturbance1--the organism does not right itself and recover so rapidly and easily4 ,these direct and native elements of feeling are then broadened out and intensified through other elements that come in by way of association4 ,for example1 in order to sing high tones1 a greater tension and exertion of the vocal chords is needed than for low tones2 loud tones suggest loud noises1 which1 as in breaking and crashing and thundering1 are inevitably associated with fear2 the loud is also the near and present and threatening1 the low is distant and safe4 ,although each tone1 as separate and individual1 possesses its own feeling in its own right1 the tonal effects are immensely accentuated by contrast with one another1--the high against the low1 the poor against the rich1 the loud against the soft--and through the summation1 by means of repetition1 of the influences of many tones of like character2 the full meaning of music depends upon the relations of tones1 especially the temporal relations4 ,this fact was fully recognized by ,aristotle1 who raised the question why tones are so much more expressive than colors4 ,music is almost the sole important art that relies on the expressiveness of the sense material alone1 independent of any element of meaning4 ,to be sure1 the beauty of oriental rugs depends entirely on their color and line harmonies2 for the meanings which the patterns have for their oriental makers is generally unknown to us of the western world2 yet what we feel when we contemplate them cannot compare in volume and intensity with what we experience when we listen to music4 ,and ,aristotle correctly assigned one of the chief reasons for the superior significance of music--its temporal character4 ,a color or line scheme may express a momentary mood1 with perhaps just the most rudimentary movement as we go from the dark to the bright colors1 or as we follow the motion of the lines as they curve or converge2 yet it cannot express an action or process that begins1 proceeds1 continues1 ends4 ,when we look at the colors or lines of a painting or rug1 we feel intensely1 but there is no development or process of feeling2 if the mind moves1 it moves inevitably not with1 but away from1 what it sees4 ,but tones are given to us in succession2 we are forced to move with them2 hence they come to express for us1 in ways which we shall try to analyze1 the changing and developing process of the inner life4 ,in its temporal aspect1 music has two chief characteristics1 rhythm and melody4 ,in our music these are inseparable2 yet they can be separated for the purposes of analysis2 and a rhythmical roll of drumbeats or a careless succession of tones harmonically related proves that each may produce an aesthetic effect without the other4 ,we shall consider melody first4 ,a mere succession of tones1 however pleasing separately1 does not make a melody2 for melody depends on a definite scale and on certain relations between the tones of the scale4 ,these relations illustrate the three modes of aesthetic unity4 ,first1 there is harmony4 ,tones are harmonically related when they belong to the leading chords of the key4 ,the tones of such chords1 when sounded together1 are consonant4 ,now harmony1 which is an aesthetic feeling1 although not identical with consonance1 which is a purely sensory relation between tones1 depends nevertheless upon consonance4 ,in order to understand harmony1 we must therefore first understand consonance1 and1 in order to do this1 we must begin by describing the experience and then look for its possible causes4 ,footnote3 ,consult the discussions in ,karl ,stumpf1 ,tonpsychologie2 ,carl ,emil ,seashore1 ,the ,psychology of ,musical ,talent1 chap4 ,,vii4 ,as for the first1 consonant tones1 when sounded together1 seem to fit one another1 almost to fuse1 despite the fact that the different tones are distinguishable in the whole4 ,this fitting together1 in turn1 seems to depend on a resemblance or partial identity between them4 ,for example1 the most consonant tones are a note and its octave1 which are1 perhaps1 actually identical in quality2 but lesser intervals are also alike1 as for example a note and its fifth1 which are more readily mistaken for one another than two dissonant tones1 say a note and its seventh4 ,as for the explanation of consonance1 we know that consonant tones have identical partial tones and are caused by vibration rates that stand to one another in simple ratios4 ,thus in a clang composed of a tone and its fifth1 the first partial of the fifth is the second partial of the prime1 and the vibration ratios are as two to three4 ,the bearing of this second fact on the question of partial identity will become clear if we consider the concrete case of a tone produced by #bd vibrations per second1 whose fifth would then be produced by #cf vibrations per second1 and then consider the same tone and its dissonant second1 the ratio of whose vibrations is #bd to #bg2 in the former case1 there is a common part of #f vibrations1 a fourth of the total number of the first tone2 in the latter1 only #c1 an eighth4 ,that identity of partial tones is not a sufficient explanation of consonance--as ,helmholtz thought it to be--is proved by the fact that simple tones1 which have no partials1 may still be consonant4 ,nevertheless1 an identity of partials does undoubtedly contribute to the consonance of the complex tones used in our music2 ultimately1 however1 the final reason for consonance must be sought in some underlying identity within the tones themselves1 an identity that seems to be given psychologically in their resemblance1 and with which physically the simplicity of their vibration ratios probably has something to do4 ,and that in music the feeling of harmony should depend upon partial identity is what we should expect from our previous study of harmony in general4 ,footnote3 ,see page #hg4 ,the second of the tonal relations upon which melody depends is contrast4 ,first1 there is the contrast between the high and the low2 even when notes are harmonically related1 as a note and its fifth1 they are in contrast1 in so far as the one is measurably higher and more distant than the other4 ,of equal importance is the rivalry between the fundamental tones in the leading harmonic chords2 for example1 the rivalry between the tonic and the dominant4 ,for each of these claims to be the center of the melodic progression1 and draws to itself all the tones which belong to its chord4 ,dissonance is a cause of rivalry2 for a dissonant tone is one that will not fit into a given harmony2 yet since it is still a part of the melody1 must have its home somewhere1 and belongs therefore in another harmony1 which1 through this tone1 is set up in rivalry with the prevailing one4 ,a tone that did not belong to any harmony would not be a dissonance1 but a discord1--a tone without meaning musically4 ,dissonances1 like other contrasts1 enrich the melody by establishing rival harmonies2 discords destroy melodies4 ,just as the drama has little significance without conflict1 so melodies are uninteresting without dissonances4 ,were it not for the third of the tonal relations1 melodies would lack unity and system and go to pieces under the stress of rival forces4 ,this third relation may be call finality2 ,footnote3 ,the explanation of this is obscure2 there is no unanimity among the specialists in musical theory4 it belongs among relations we have called evolutionary4 ,by it is meant the fact that certain tones demand and naturally lead into other tones1 in which they seem to find their completion or fulfillment4 ,for example1 the tones of a chord demand the fundamental tone of the chord2 dissonances must be resolved1--must be followed by other tones of their own harmony2 the diatonic tones over and above the tonic--the upleader and downleader--naturally lead into the tonic2 and all the tones demand1 either immediately or through the mediation of other tones1 the tonic of the scale to which they belong4 ,this principle of finality1 which1 in the classic music1 is the basis of what is called tonality1 by establishing the tonic as the center of reference and point of completion of all tones1 gives to melody its dramatic unity4 ,through it1 by creating the tonic chord as fundamental1 the rivalry between the tonic1 dominant1 and subdominant is overcome1 and all dissonances finally resolved into unity4 ,definite scales and tonal laws and schemes of composition are of the utmost importance for musical composition2 there are1 of course1 many of these besides the classical1 and they are all partly conventional2 but that does not matter so long as1 by being well known1 they enable the melody to move along definite lines1 arousing and fulfilling definite expectations4 ,those forms of modernist music that dispense with scales altogether1 in which therefore there are no fixed points de repere like the tonic or dominant of the older music1 can express chance momentary moods by means of rich and strange colors1 but not an orderly and purposeful experience4 ,of course1 in our modern harmonic music the melodic movement proceeds by means1 not of single tones1 but of chords4 ,yet no new principle is introduced by this fact4 ,for the chords have in part merely the significance of highly enriched tones1 the harmonized tones of the chords taking the place of the partials of the single notes and imparting a more voluminous color1 which may have its own beauty as such2 and1 in addition1 they simply confer upon the melody another dimension1 as it were1 the tonal relations of harmony and contrast operating between the tones of the chords simultaneously1 as well as temporally between the successive elements of the melody4 ,the orderly beauty which the tonal relations confer upon music is further enriched and complicated by rhythm4 ,rhythm in music is of two sorts3 a rhythm of time and a rhythm of accent1 or increased loudness4 ,through the one1 the duration of a musical composition is divided up into approximately equal parts filled by notes and rests of definite length1 and through the other1 the light notes are subordinated to the heavy notes4 ,the two1 however1 are interrelated2 for the bars are divided from each other by the accents1 and the accents recur at approximately equal intervals4 ,the pleasure in rhythmical arrangement is derived from two sources3 first1 from the need for perspicuity which is fulfilled through the regular grouping of the tonal elements in the bars1--their length being adjusted to the average length of an attention wave1 and the number of tones that fill them to the number of items which can be taken in at one act of attention1--and through the subordination of the light to the heavy within the bars1 the bars to the measures1 and the measures to the periods4 ,the second source of satisfaction in rhythm is the combination of feelings of balance and harmony aroused--a rhythm is not only a pleasing perspicuous order1 but an emotion4 ,footnote3 ,see chap4 ,v1 p4#ij ,for every recurring accent and interval competes with its predecessor for the mind's attention1 yet is in agreement with it since it1 too1 fulfills the law that pervades them all4 ,the full significance of both melody and rhythm depends1 however1 upon their interrelation1 the concrete musical structure1 the motive or melody in the complete sense1 being an indissoluble unity of both4 ,now if we take the term will with a broad meaning1 ,schopenhauer's characterization of melody as an image of the will still remains the truest aesthetic interpretation of it4 ,for1 when we hear it1 we not only hear1 but attend to what we hear2 we hear each tone in its relations of harmony or contrast or fulfillment to other tones1 freighted with memories of its predecessors and carrying with it expectations1 which the following tones fulfill or deny4 ,the melody begins1 let us suppose1 with the tonic note4 ,this note then becomes for us a plan or purpose2 for as it goes1 it leaves in the mind a memory of itself1 no mere pale sensation--no image ever is--but a motor set1 an expectation and desire to hear the note again4 ,if the next note is harmonically related1 this purpose is partially fulfilled and we get the satisfaction of a partial success4 ,if1 however1 the tone does not belong to the tonic chord1 but1 let us suppose1 to the subdominant1 it comes as a hindrance1 an obstacle1 or perhaps as a new and rival purpose springing up in the course of the fulfillment of the old1--a purpose which can be satisfied only through the other tones of its chord4 ,hence the tension of conflicting expectations and the excitement as now the one and now the other is fulfilled in the succeeding notes4 ,yet1 since all other harmonies are subordinated to the tonic harmony1 and even through their very opposition increase our desire for it1 they must give way to the fundamental purpose with which we started2 and when the tonic does eventually triumph1 it fulfills not only itself1 but all lesser desires of the melody2 in it we find what we have been seeking1 we arrive where we set out to go4 ,and in this success we not only obtain what we first wanted1 but more--an experience enriched by every conflict1 and harmonious ultimately through the inner adjustment and resolution of its elements2 for in hearing the final note we hear the memories of all previous tones1 also4 ,when the departures from the keynote are many and distant and sudden1 and the melody wanders into the bypaths of foreign harmonies1 moving along broken and zigzag lines1 it expresses an exciting1 a dangerous and difficult adventure2 when1 however1 the departures are gradual and confined for the most part within the limits of a single harmony1 moving in a smooth and curving path1 it expresses a life that is secure and happy1 tending to repose as the line approaches the horizontal1 and as repetitions of the same note predominate4 ,rhythm enters into melody to differentiate and emphasize4 ,by means of accent and time-value1 the different tones are weighted and their relative value fixed4 ,the heavy tones assert their will with a more insistent energy2 the long tones upon which we linger make a deeper and more lasting impression2 while the light and short tones in contrast become points of mere passing and transition4 ,if1 moreover1 we include the element of tempo1 then all the temporal feelings are introduced into melody--the excitement of rapid motion1 the calmness of the slow2 the agony of delay1 of waiting and postponement1 with the triumph and relief when the expected note arrives at last4 ,finally1 the effects of shading must be added1 the contrasts between piano and forte--loudness that brings the tones so near that they may seem threatening in their insistence2 softness that makes them seem far away and dreamlike4 ,following the large idea introduced by ,schopenhauer1 which was enriched by the minuter studies of ,lotze1 ,wundt1 and ,lipps1 we may sum the foregoing analysis in the statement that music expresses the abstract aspects of action1 its ease or difficulty1 its advance or retrocession1 its home coming or its wandering1 its hesitation or its surety1 its conflicts and its contrasts1 its force or its weakness1 its swiftness or slowness1 its abruptness or smoothness1 its excitement or repose1 its success or failure1 its seriousness or play4 ,then1 in addition1 as we shall see1 all modes of emotion that are congruous with this abstract form may by association be poured into its mold1 so that the content of music becomes not a mere form of life1 but life itself4 ,it is1 of course1 obvious that our analysis has confined itself to the barest elements of the musical experience4 ,our music to-day1 with its many-voiced harmonies1 with its procession of chords instead of single tones1 with its modulation into related keys1 has an infinite wealth and complexity defying description4 ,a large part of the astonishing effect of music is derived from the fact that in a brief space we seem to hear and absorb so much3 the careers of multitudinous lives compressed into an instant4 ,yet the meaning of the complex whole can be understood1 ,i think1 from such an analysis of the simple structure as has been given4 ,the methods by which the larger musical wholes are built up illustrate principles of aesthetic structure with which we are already familiar4 ,there is the harmonious unification of parts through the simple repetition of motives1 their inversion or imitation in higher or lower keys1 either successively or simultaneously2 the execution of the same theme in another time or tempo2 and through the interweaving of themes4 ,there is the balance of contrasted or competing themes2 the subordination of the lesser to the more striking and insistent motives2 the preparation for1 emergence and triumph of1 a final passage that resolves all dissonances and adjusts all conflicts4 ,because of music's abstractness1 the connection between the parts of a musical composition may be loose or subtle1 taxing the synthetic powers even of the educated listener2 yet some contrast or analogy of feeling must always unite them4 ,the structure of the whole may be either static or dramatic2 in the former case the dramatic element is confined to the themes1 the purpose of the whole being merely to work out all their significant variations1--to embroider and repeat them in new keys and rhythms and tempos1 and to contrast them with other themes4 ,repetition is the great creative principle of musical development1 the composer seeking to say over again in ever new forms what he has said before4 ,and this1 again because of the abstractness of music1 is a significant process2 to repeat the concrete is tiresome and trivial1 but an abstract form is always enriched by appearing in a new shape4 ,the explanation of musical expression thus far given1 although it suffices to account for the basis of all musical feeling1 is1 ,i think1 inadequate to its full volume and intensity4 ,there is a concreteness of emotional content in some musical compositions--an arousal of terror and longing and despair and joy--infinitely richer than any abstract forms of feeling4 ,to account for this1 two sources of explanation suggest themselves4 ,first1 the arousing of emotions through deep-lying effects of rhythm4 ,it is a well-known fact1 cited in most discussions of this subject1 that the motor mechanism of the body is somehow attuned to rhythm4 ,when we hear rhythmical sounds1 we not only follow them with the attention1 we follow them also with our muscles1 with hand and foot and head and heart and respiratory apparatus4 ,even when we do not visibly move in unison with the rhythm--as we usually do not--we tend to do so1 which proves that in any case the motor mechanism of the body is stimulated and brought into play by the sounds4 ,there is a direct psychophysical connection between the hearing of rhythmic sounds and the tendency to execute certain movements4 ,but there is an equally direct relation between emotions and tendencies to movements1 through which the former find expression and are given effect in the outer world4 ,to every kind of emotion--love and hate and fear and sorrow and joy--there corresponds a specific mode of motor manifestation4 ,the connection between rhythmic sound and emotion is therefore plain2 the link is a common motor scheme4 ,rhythms arouse into direct and immediate activity the motor sets that are the physical basis of the emotions1 and hence arouse the corresponding emotions themselves1 without any ground for them outside of the organism4 ,and these emotions1 since they are aroused by the sounds and not by any object to which they might be directed and upon which they might work themselves off in a meaningful reaction1 are interwoven into the sounds1--they and the sounds come to us as a single indissoluble whole of experience4 ,the emotions become the content of the sounds4 ,and hence the strangeness of the musical experience--the fact that we feel so deeply over nothing4 ,the second cause for the concreteness of the musical experience ,i take to be certain emotions and feelings which are aroused by association1 not with the rhythmic elements of music alone1 but with the tone-color1 intensity1 and melody also4 ,there is a human quality1 a poignancy and intimacy1 about much music1 which can be understood only through its analogy with the sounds of the human voice4 ,for the human voice is emotionally expressive through its mere sound alone3 one can know a large part of what is going on in the breasts of people who talk in a foreign tongue just by listening to the sound of their voices--their excitement or boredom1 their anger1 love1 or resentment2 and one becomes conscious of these emotions1 as in hearing music1 without knowing what they are all about4 ,all human emotions betray themselves in speech through the rise and fall1 range of intervals1 loudness or softness1 tempo and differences of duration of tone4 ,now1 although it is far too much to say that music is actually an imitation of the voice1 it is nevertheless true1 as ,diderot thought1 that in certain musical passages we overhear the voice4 ,there is never any exact similarity between music and vocal sounds1 but there is enough resemblance to awaken by association the feelings that are the normal accompaniments of such sounds4 ,any tone analogies that there happen to be are felt as such4 ,this is notably true of all music that has a peculiar lyrical and human quality1--the music that readily becomes popular because it seems to speak direct to the heart4 ,originally1 all music was song1 and since speech and song employ the same organ1 it would be surprising indeed if something of the same expression of the emotions that overflows into the one should not also overflow into the other1 and that musicians should not1 unconsciously or consciously1 tend to choose their melodies because of such analogies4 ,instrumental music probably got its first melodies from song1 and despite its vast present complexity and independence1 has never completely lost touch with song4 ,since the first meaningful sounds that we hear are those of the voice1 music must always have for us the significance of a glorified speech4 ,the fault of the original proposers of the speech theory was that they thought it a complete explanation of the facts of musical expression4 ,its explanatory value is1 however1 strictly limited1 and supplemental to the more basic considerations adduced2 yet it remains a necessary part of the complex theory of the complex fact we are studying4 ,and the acceptance of it as such does not imply a belief in the speech theory of the origin of music4 ,song did not grow out of impassioned speech1 but arose coeval with speech1 when men found--perhaps by accident--that they could make with their voices pure and pleasing tones and intervals of tones1 and express something of their inner selves in so doing4 ,yet1 as ,i have suggested1 it would be strange if speech did not react upon song--if the first vocal tones were not purified words1 and the first intervals an approximation to those of speech4 ,thus in song1 lyric poetry and music arose together as a single art for the expression of feeling1 until the development of instrumental music freed the one and the invention of writing freed the other2 while speech kept to its different and original purpose--the expression of ideas for practical ends1 and produced an aesthetic form of its own only at a later period and under independent influences4 ,the complete understanding of musical expression involves1 finally1 as was suggested at the beginning of this chapter1 the recognition of the analogy that exists between music and the noises produced by nature and human activities4 ,through the imitation of their rhythm1 force1 and tempo1 some of these can be directly suggested by musicians4 ,yet this direct suggestion1 although employed by the greatest composers1 plays a subordinate part in music1 and1 since it introduces an element of representation of the outer world--tonmalerei--is usually felt to involve a departure from the prime purpose of music3 the expression of the inner world through the emotional effects of pure sound4 ,in the best program music1 therefore1 the purpose of the composer is not the mere imitation of nature--which is never art at all1 and in music is always recognized as an unsaesthetic tour de force of mere cleverness--but rather the arousal of the feelings caused by nature4 ,and as an aid in the expression of such feelings1 imitation1 when delicately suggestive rather than blatant1 will always play a part4 ,there are1 however1 subtler and remoter analogies between music and noise1 which produce their effects whether the musician wills them or not4 ,such1 for example1 are loud bursts of tone suggesting falling or crashing1 events which usually have a terrifying significance2 crescendoes1 suggesting the approach of things1 so often full of expectancy and excitement2 diminuendoes1 suggesting a gradual departure or fading away1 bearing relief or regret4 ,and there are doubtless hundreds of other such associations1 too minute or remote or long- forgotten to recover1 which add their mite of feeling to swell and make vast the musical emotion4 ,as ,fechner pointed out1 these associations may work quite unconsciously1 giving evidence of their functioning only through the feeling tones which they release4 ,so important is the part which sound plays in our lives that there must be an especially large number of such underground associations aroused by music4 ,all of our experiences are connected together by subconscious filiation2 but it is only in art that their residual feeling tones have a full opportunity to come into the mind2 for in everyday life they are crowded out by the hurry of practical concerns4 ,in the earlier stages of the development of music they must have contributed a still larger share to musical expression1 when the different forms of music were connected by habit and convention with particular crises and occasions1 religious1 domestic1 and social1 in the life of individuals and groups4 ,but even to-day1 despite the new freedom of music1 they are not absent4 ,looking back over our analysis of music1 we see that it is characterized by the expression of emotion without the representation of the causes or objects of emotion4 ,this fact1 which has now become a well-recognized part of aesthetic theory1 distinguishes music from all the other arts4 ,music supplies us with no definite images of nature1 as painting and sculpture do1 and with no ideas1 as poetry does4 ,it contains feelings1 but no meanings4 ,music offers us no background for emotion1 no objects upon which it may be directed1 no story1 no mise en scene4 ,it supplies us with the feeling tones of things and events1 but not with the things or events themselves4 ,it moves wholly in a world of its own1 a world of pure feeling1 with no embodiment save only sound4 ,it may express terror1 but not terror over this or that2 joy1 but whether the joy that comes from sight of the morning or of the beloved1 it cannot tell4 ,in one brief space of time1 it may arouse despair1 hope1 triumph--but all over nothing4 ,yet--and this is the central paradox of music--despite its abstractness1 nay1 because of this very quality1 it remains the most personal and intimate of the arts4 ,for1 itself offering no images of things and events to which we may attach the feelings which it arouses1 we supply our own4 ,we fill in the impersonal form of musical feeling with the concrete emotions of our own lives2 it is our strivings1 our hopes and fears1 which music expresses4 ,by denying us access to the world about us1 music compels us to turn in upon ourselves2 it is we who live there in the sounds4 ,for1 as we have seen1 the rhythmic tones seize hold not only of our attention1 but of our bodies also--hand and foot and head and heart1 resounding throughout the whole organism4 ,and1 where our bodies are1 there are we4 ,moreover1 our life there in the sounds need not remain without objects because the music does not describe them to us2 for out of our own inner selves we may build up an imaginary world for our feelings4 ,as we listen to the music1 we shall see the things we hope for or fear or desire2 or else transport ourselves among purely fanciful objects and events4 ,music is a language which we all understand because it expresses the basic mold of all emotion and striving2 yet it is a language which no two people understand in the same way1 because each pours into that mold his own unique experience4 ,in itself abstract and objectless1 it may thus become1 in varying ways1 concrete and alive4 ,the great variety in the interpretation of musical compositions has often been used as an argument against the existence of emotions in music1 but is1 as we have seen1 the inevitable result of their abstractness4 ,this abstractness may1 indeed1 be so great that apparently opposite concrete emotions1 such as love and religious adoration1 despair and joy1 may be aroused in different people1 according to different circumstances1 by the same piece4 ,the music of the opera can be used in the cathedral4 ,yet strikingly dissimilar emotions have common elements--worship is the love of ,god2 joy may be a rage equally with disappointment2 and at their highest intensity1 all opposed emotions tend to pass over into each other3 hope into fear1 love into hate1 exaltation into depression4 ,the elementary feelings out of which our complex emotions are built are few and simple2 hence each one of the latter is identical in some ingredients with the others4 ,and even the elementary feelings may have common aspects of intensity and tempo1 of strain and excitement4 ,some musical compositions1 like the fugues of ,bach1 seem to express nothing more than such extremely abstract modes of feeling1 without arousing any associations that would impel the mind to make a more concrete interpretation4 ,to express feelings of this kind in language is1 of course1 impossible1 for the reason that our emotional vocabularies have been constructed to communicate only the emotions of everyday life4 ,other types of music--like the romantic tone poetry of a later day--which are more abundant in their associations1 and hence richer in their emotional content1 are difficult of translation for another reason3 the rapidity of succession and subtlety of intermixture of the expressed feelings are beyond the reach of words1 even of a poet's1 which inevitably stabilize and isolate what they denote4 ,but abstract and objectless emotions occur in other regions of experience beside the musical1 even beyond the entire field of the aesthetic4 ,all except the most healthy-minded and practical people are at times filled with vague fears1 longings1 and joys1 the objects or causes of which they cannot formulate4 ,normally1 feeling is directed towards definite objects and leads to action upon them1 but may nevertheless become isolated from its proper connections1 and function without issue4 ,the extreme cases of this are the pathological states of mania and depression1 where such feelings assume proportions dangerous to the existence of the individual4 ,intoxication and hysteria present analogous1 though more transient phenomena4 ,and one may observe the autonomous development of mere feeling even in the healthy life1 as when one remains jolly after all occasion for it has ceased1 or angry after the cause for anger has been removed4 ,all feelings tend to acquire a strength beyond what is necessary for action and to endure after their proper objects and conditions have disappeared2 hence the luxury of grief and revenge and sentimentality4 ,in their most general character1 musical emotions stand on a level with other purposeless emotions1 except that they are deliberately induced and elaborated to an extent and complexity unmatched elsewhere4 ,but while these emotions are morbid and evil outside of music1 within music they are innocent4 ,for outside of music they spring from dislocations of the practical and striving core of the personality1 where1 if persistently indulged in1 they exacerbate the disturbance of which they are the sign1 interfering with action and eventually endangering the health and happiness of the individual2 while in music1 being induced from the outside by mere sounds1 they have no ground within the personality itself where they can take root1 and hence exert only a harmless and transient effect upon the mind2 they belong to the surface1 not to the substance of the self1 to imagination1 not to the will4 ,or when1 as sometimes happens1 the deeper and perhaps morbid strata of the self are reached by the sounds1 the feelings which are awakened from their sleep there1 where they might be productive of evil dreams1 find an orderly and welcome release in the sounds--they are not only aroused1 but carried off by the music4 ,this the ,greeks understood when they employed music as a healer of the soul and called this effect catharsis4 ,if1 indeed1 music were just a means for the arousal of feelings1 it would not be a fine art1 but an orgy4 ,for1 in order to be aesthetic1 feelings must be not merely stimulated by1 but objectified in1 the sense medium1 where they can be mastered and known4 ,but the intimacy of music is not in contradiction with the freedom and objectivity characteristic of all art4 ,for musical feelings1 although they are experienced as our own1 are nevertheless also experienced as the sounds2 in music we live1 not as we live ordinarily1 within our bodies1 but out there1 in a rarer and unpractical medium--tone4 ,and in this new region we gain dominion over our feelings1 through the order which the form of the music imposes upon them1 and also self-knowledge1 because1 in being externalized in the sounds1 our feelings become an object for our reflection and understanding4 ,in music the light of reflection is turned straight upon ourselves4 ,the poignancy of music depends upon just this fact that through it we get a revelation of ourselves to ourselves4 ,in the other arts1 this revelation is indirect1 occurring through the representation of the lives of other1 real or fictitious1 personalities2 but in music1 it is direct2 for there the object of expression is oneself4 ,even in the lyric poem1 where the reader and the poet tend to become identical1 the unity is less complete2 for when embodied in words1 feelings become more exterior than when put forth into tones2 a tone is closer to the self1 because like a cry or a laugh1 it is less articulate4 ,moreover1 words are means of communication as well as expression2 they therefore embody of any experience only as much as can be passed from speaker to hearer2 the unique is for the most part lost on the way2 but in music the full personal resonance of experience is retained4 ,in music we get so close to ourselves that at times it is almost frightening4 ,and this is the reason why1 on all the high or serious occasions of human life1 music is alone adequate to express its inner meaning4 ,at a marriage or a funeral1 in church or at a festival1 the ceremonial is traditional and social2 it expresses the historical and group significance of the situation1 but not that which is unique and just one's own2 it always contains1 moreover1 much that is outgrown and unacceptable--a creed of life or love or death that belongs to the past1 not to us4 ,but the music embodies all that we really believe and feel about the fact1 its intimate1 emotional essence1 clear of everything irrelevant and external4 ,but music does more than express the inexpressible in ourselves2 it gives us entrance into a supernatural world of feeling4 ,except at the rare high moments of our lives1 its joys and despairs are too exalted for us2 they are not ours2 they belong to gods and heroes4 ,in music the superman is born into our feelings4 ,music does for the emotions what mythology and poetry do for the imagination and philosophy for the intellect--it brings us into touch with a more magnificent life1 for which we have perhaps the potency1 but not the opportunity here4 ,and in doing this1 music performs a great service2 for1 outside of love and war1 life1 which offers endless occasions for intense thought and action1 provides few for passionate feeling4 ,thus far our study of the art has been confined to so-called absolute music4 ,we must now complete our survey by a rapid consideration of the union of music with the other arts4 ,because of its abstractness1 music1 of all the arts1 lends itself most readily to combination with others2 yet even in the case of music the possibility of union is limited by the existence of a clear identity between the arts combined4 ,thus1 music goes well with the temporal arts1 poetry1 the dance1 and the drama1 and particularly well with the first two because they are rhythmical2 it will also unite with architecture1 because that is another abstract art2 but with the static1 concrete arts like painting and sculpture1 it will not fuse4 ,one might perhaps accompany a picture with a single chord whose emotional meaning was the same as that of the color scheme and the objects represented1 but not with more2 for the aesthetic experience of the picture is instantaneous and complete1 while that of the music requires time for its development and fruition2 hence the two would soon fall apart1 and a person would either have to ignore the music or cease to look at the picture4 ,originally1 of course1 music was always combined with some other art1 and first of all1 probably with the dance4 ,in its earliest form1 the dance was a communal religious expression1 about which we shall have little to say1 since it belongs to the past1 not to living art4 ,for to-day the dance is a free art like music4 ,the beauty of the dance consists1 first1 in the free and rhythmical expression of impulses to movement4 ,this expression1 which is direct for the dancer who actually carries out her impulses in real motion1 is for the spectator indirect and ideal1 for he experiences only movement-images aroused by movements seen1 and then1 by feeling these into the limbs of the dancer1 dances with her in the imagination4 ,and to secure this free and large1 even though vicarious1 expression of pent-up impulses to movement is very grateful to us whose whole movement life is impoverished1 because restricted by convention and occupation to a few narrow types4 ,but the dance would have little interest for men were it not for another element in its beauty3 the expression of the amorous feelings of the spectator4 ,these1 although really located in the breast of the spectator1 are nevertheless embodied in the personality of the dancer1 whose charm they constitute4 ,finally1 the content of the dance may be further enriched through the use of symbolic costume and mimetic gestures1 suggesting emotions like joy or love or grief1 emotionally toned ideas like spring1 or actions such as courtship4 ,now music1 with its own rhythmical order and voluminous emotional content1 has an obvious kinship with the rhythmic form and amorous substance of the dance1 and so can well serve to accompany it4 ,the result of the union is to enforce the rhythmic experience through the medium of sound1 the dance keeping time with the music1 and1 through the heightened emotional tone and increased suggestibility created by the music1 to deepen the sympathetic rapport between dancer and spectator4 ,thus the music is given a concrete interpretation through the dance1 and the dance gains in emotional power through the music4 ,in the union1 the gain to the dance is clear and absolute2 but the music pays a price for the concreteness of content which it secures1 by forfeiting its power to express chance inner moods--what it gains in definiteness it loses in scope and universality4 ,and only music with a strong and evident rhythm is capable of union with the dance2 the more complex and subtle music1 aside from the impossibility of making its delicate rhythms fit into those of a dance1 has a variety and sublimity of meaning so far transcending the personality of any human being1 that to attempt to focus it in a dancer1 no matter how charming1 would be a travesty4 ,of equal naturalness and almost equal antiquity with the union of music with the dance1 is its union with poetry4 ,in song this union is a real fusion2 for the tones are the vocal word-sounds themselves1 purified into music4 ,here1 of course1 unlike absolute music1 the tones are expressive1 not only as other tones are through their mere sound1 but also through their meaning4 ,and this can well be2 for as ,schopenhauer remarked1 just as the universal may be illustrated by any object which embodies it1 so the vague musical content of a tone may be fused with the concrete meaning of a word of like feeling4 ,and for many hearers music doubtless gains by thus becoming articulate2 for1 being unable to supply out of their own imagination the concreteness which music lacks1 they welcome having this done for them by the poet2 yet the gain is not without a corresponding loss4 ,for when the musical meaning is specialized through the emotions that are the burden of the song1 it necessarily loses the power which it would otherwise have of expressing one's own inner life--once more1 what it gains in definiteness it loses in scope4 ,it no longer possesses the unique function of the musical4 ,hence1 if we love the music1 we shall not care whether or not we understand the meaning of the words1 and what we shall value in the song will be only the peculiar intimacy which it derives from its instrument1 the voice4 ,only rarely is it otherwise1 as in some of the songs of ,schumann1 when the poetic interpretation is so beautiful and so completely at one with the musical feeling1 that we prefer to accept it rather than substitute our own interpretation for the poet's4 ,but even so1 the music1 if genuine1 will have value without the words4 ,at the opposite pole are those songs1 often popular1 where the music1 having little worth in itself1 is a mere accompaniment for the words4 ,in all cases1 however1 the music can lend to the poetry some of the intimacy which is its own1 so that its burden has a deeper echo in the soul4 ,yet much of poetry is unfit for union with music4 ,this is true1 first1 of all highly intellectual poetry1 where the emotions are embodied in complex and abstract ideas4 ,one could not1 for example1 readily set ,browning to music4 ,music may be deep1 mystic1 even metaphysical in its meaning1 but it cannot be dialectical4 ,the emotions that accompany subtle thought1 even when intense1 are not of the voluminous1 massive kind which music expresses2 they lack the bodily resonance of the latter2 they are1 moreover1 clean-cut and static1 while in music everything flows in half-lights1 like a river moving in moonlight4 ,on the other hand1 poems which express rapidly developing states of mind1 which contain quick1 subtle transitions1 are equally unfit for union with music4 ,for music1 although always in motion1 is always in slow motion2 it needs time to get under way1 and time for its development in embroidering1 varying1 and repeating its theme4 ,and this difficulty applies in a general way to every union between poetry and music4 ,for words are primarily practical and communicative1 and therefore cut short the passion which they express2 whereas tones1 never having had any other purpose than expression1 draw it out and let it have its way4 ,moreover1 poetry1 because of its definiteness1 is compatible with only a limited range of variation1 beyond which it becomes monotonous1 while music1 because of its abstractness1 permits of variations almost endless1 and is enriched by every new shape in which its meaning can appear4 ,if1 therefore1 poetry is to keep time with the slow movement of the music and conform to its mode of development1 the verses have to be repeated again and again2 but this destroys the poetic form--as in the oratorio1 with its senseless iterations4 ,finally1 the temporal and developmental character of the drama would seem to fit it for union with music4 ,yet the union of these two arts is confronted with the same difficulties that beset the connection between poetry and music4 ,the movement of the acting drama is swift and straight1 that of music is slow and circular2 hence if the music is to have its way1 the action of the drama must stand4 ,in consequence of this1 there is little real action in most operas1 prolonged dialogues in song taking its place4 ,only rarely--as for example in ,strauss' ,salome1 perhaps--is the form of the drama preserved4 ,as a rule the unity of the musical form is also destroyed1 the thread of the story being substituted for it4 ,last1 as in the song1 the universality of the music is renounced in favor of the interpretation given to it by the program4 ,in the leit-motif1 indeed1 as ,wagner uses it1 where a musical phrase is provided with a fixed connotation of ideas and acts which is understood by the hearer whenever it recurs1 opera ceases to be music at all in the strict sense1 and becomes a musical language4 ,yet in the opera1 as in the song1 the music1 when genuine1 possesses its own independent meaning1 which can be appreciated without the mise en scene or the program4 ,and then only rarely1 as in the ,toreador song in ,carmen1 is the action so close to the inner meaning of the music1 that the latter seems to gain by the interpretation4 ,it follows that ,wagner's dream of making the opera a sum of all the values of poetry1 drama1 and music1 and so an art more beautiful than any one of them1 is fallacious4 ,for1 as we have repeatedly seen1 in uniting the arts1 there is gain as well as loss2 something of the form or meaning of each has to be sacrificed4 ,the work that results from the combination is really a new art-form1 in which the elements are changed and their individuality partly destroyed2 and its value is a new value1 which may be equal to1 but is certainly no greater than1 that of any other art-form4 ,to put the matter epigrammatically1 when the arts are added together1 one plus one does not equal two1 but only one again4 ,,chapter ,,ix ,,the ,,aesthetics ,,of ,,poetry ,our study of music in the preceding chapter has prepared us for the study of poetry1 for the two arts are akin4 ,both are arts of sound and both employ rhythm as a principle of order in sound4 ,they had a twin birth in song1 and although they have grown far apart1 they come together again in song4 ,in many ways1 music is the standard for verse4 ,yet1 despite these resemblances1 the differences between the arts are striking4 ,in place of music's disembodied feelings1 poetry offers us concrete intuitions of life1--the rehearsal of emotions attached to real things and clean-cut ideas4 ,poetry is a music with a definite meaning1 and that is no music at all4 ,much of poetry1 gnomic and narrative1 probably grew out of speech by regularizing its natural rhythm1 independent of music4 ,to-day poetry is written to be read1 not to be sung2 it is an art of speech1 not of song4 ,all speech is communication1 an utterance from a speaker to a hearer4 ,in the case of ordinary speech1 the aim is to effect some change of mind in the interlocutor that will lead to an action beneficial to one or both of the persons concerned4 ,ordinary speech is practical2 its end is to influence conduct2 it is command1 exhortation1 prayer1 or threat4 ,poetry1 on the other hand1 is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings2 its purpose is to express life for the sake of the values which expression itself may create1 and to communicate them to others4 ,footnote3 ,compare ,f4 ,n4 ,scott1 ,the ,most ,fundamental ,differentia of ,poetry and ,prose1 in ,modern ,language ,association ,publications1 ,v4 #ai1 pp4 #bej-bfi4 ,the values are given in the utterance itself2 they do not have to be waited for to come from something which may develop subsequently4 ,they are the universal aesthetic values which may result from any free expression of life--the contemplative reliving of its joys1 or the mastery of its pains through the courageous facing of them in reflection4 ,since the appeal of poetry is to the sympathy and thoughtfulness which all men possess1 there is no need that it be directed1 as ordinary speech is1 to particular men and women whose help or advantage is sought4 ,the poet addresses himself to man in general1 and only so to you and me4 ,even when ostensibly directed to some particular person1 a poem has an audience which is really universal4 ,except in the first moment of creative fervor1 the friend invoked is never intended to be the sole recipient of the poet's words4 ,oftentimes the poet appeals to the dead or to natural objects which cannot hear him4 ,one might perhaps infer from this that there is no genuine impulse to communication in poetry2 that it is pure expression1 a dialogue with self4 ,but this would be a false inference2 for there is always some hint in every poem that a vague background of possible auditors is bespoken4 ,no matter how intimate and spontaneous1 no poem can escape being social1 and hence1 in varying degrees1 self-conscious4 ,art is autonomous expression meant to be contagious4 ,the appeal of scientific expression is also to something universal in men--to their love of knowledge and understanding4 ,but there is this difference between poetry and science3 science seeks merely the intellectual mastery of things and ideas1 and so is careless of their values2 while poetry1 even when descriptive or thoughtful1 ever has life as its theme--the way man reacts to his environment and his thought4 ,poetry is never purely descriptive or dialectical4 ,and this difference in the substance of the expression determines a difference in the direction of interest within the expression4 ,in scientific expression1 words lead us away to things--pure description1 or to their meanings--mathematics and dialectic2 but in poetry1 since the values which we attach to things and ideas come from within out of ourselves and are embodied in the words1 they keep us to themselves2 we dwell in the expression itself1 in the verbal experience--its total content of sounds which we hear1 ideas which we understand1 and feelings which we appreciate1 is of worth to us4 ,since poetry is an art of speech1 we can understand it only through a study of words1 which are its media4 ,a single word is seldom an integral element of speech2 yet it may fairly be called the atom1 the ultimate constituent of speech4 ,now a word is a structure of a potentially fourfold complexity4 ,first1 it is a phenomenon of sound and movement--something heard and uttered4 ,its sound1 and the movement-sensations from vocal cords and tongue and lips which accompany its production1 are the sensuous shell of the word4 ,second1 embodied in this as the speaker utters it1 associated to it as the hearer understands it1 is its meaning4 ,the meaning is either an idea of a concrete thing or situation1 or an abstraction4 ,this is the irreducible minimum of a word1 but is seldom all4 ,for1 in poetry1 some emotional response to the object meant by the word impels to its utterance1 and this is embodied in it when it is uttered1 and a similar feeling is awakened in the auditor when it is heard or read4 ,a word not only mirrors a situation through its meaning1 but preserves something of the mind's response2 it communicates the total experience1--the self as well as the object4 ,finally1 the meaning of a word may not remain a mere idea1 but may grow out into one or more of the concrete images of which it is the residuum4 ,when1 for example1 ,i utter the word ocean1 ,i may not only know what ,i mean and re-experience my joy in the sea1 but my meaning may be clothed in images of the sight and touch and odor of the sea--vicariously1 through these images1 all my sense experiences of the sea may be present in the mind4 ,a word1 therefore1 sounds and is articulated1 means1 expresses feeling1 and evokes images4 ,all understanding of poetry depends upon the knowledge and proper evaluation of the functioning of these aspects of a word4 ,let us consider in a general way each one of them4 ,in ordinary speech1 the sound and articulation of a word1 although indispensable to utterance1 and therefore a necessary part of it1 are of little or no value in themselves2 for our interest is centered upon the meaning or upon the action which is expected to result from its understanding4 ,we do not attend to the quality and rhythm of the word- sounds which we utter or hear1 and the articulatory sensations1 although felt1 have only a shadowy existence in the fringe of inattention4 ,but in poetry1 which is speech made beautiful1 the mere sound of the words has value4 ,in hearing poetry1 we not only understand1 but listen2 we appreciate not only the ideas and emotions conveyed1 but the word-sounds and their rhythms as well4 ,even in silent reading1 poetry is a voice which we delight to hear4 ,footnote3 ,and for many this inner speech consists quite as much of articulation as of sound4 ,the sound of a word is really a complex of actual sounds plus associated articulation impulses4 ,throughout the remainder of this chapter1 when ,i refer to the sound of words1 ,i shall have in mind this entire complex4 ,we may therefore say that in silent reading poetry is a voice which we delight both to hear and to use4 ,yet1 despite the importance which sound acquires in poetry1 it never achieves first place2 it never becomes independent1 as in music2 but shares hegemony with the other aspects of the word4 ,in practical or scientific speech1 the chief aspect is meaning2 for it is the meaning which gives us knowledge and guides our acts4 ,indeed1 for all practical purposes1 the meaning of words consists in the actions which are to be performed on hearing them4 ,if ,i ask a man the way and he tells me1 the quality of his voice1 the interest which he takes in telling me1 and the images which float across his mind are of no importance to me1 so long as ,i can follow his directions4 ,but in poetry the situation alters once more4 ,for there1 since expression itself has become the end1 and all action upon it is inhibited1 the feeling which prompts it becomes a significant part of what ,i appreciate4 ,in poetry the meanings are secondary to emotions4 ,yet the meanings are still indispensable2 for they indicate the concrete objects or ideas towards which emotion is directed4 ,in ordinary speech1 meanings are guides to action2 in aesthetic speech1 they are formulations of feelings4 ,and just in this power of a word to fixate emotion lies the chief difference between poetry and music1 where feeling1 being aroused by sound alone1 is vague and objectless4 ,ideally1 every word in a poem should be charged with feeling2 but actually this is not the case1 for many words1 taken by themselves1 are too abstract or commonplace to possess any4 ,words all too familiar1 or connectives1 like and and but and or1 are examples of this2 the former may be avoided by the poet1 but the latter are indispensable4 ,originally1 no doubt1 every word had an emotional coloring1 if only that of a child's curiosity2 and some words have meanings too deeply rooted in feeling ever to lose it4 ,no amount of familiarity can deprive such words as death and love and ,god of their emotional value4 ,words like these must forever recur in the vocabulary of poets4 ,yet1 since in living discourse a meaning is seldom complete in a single word1 but requires several words in a phrase or sentence1 a word which by itself would be cold may participate in the general warmth of the whole of which it is a part4 ,consider1 for example1 the last line of the final stanza of ,wordsworth's ,the ,lost ,love3-- ,she lived unknown1 and few could know ,when ,lucy ceased to be2 ,but she is in her grave1 and ,o6 ,the difference to me6 ,the first three words1 by themselves1 are completely bare of emotional coloring1 yet1 taken together with the last1 and in connection with the whole stanza1 and in the setting of the entire poem1 they are aglow with the most poignant passion4 ,as for the image1 the last of the aspects of a word1 the judgment of ,edmund ,burke1 in his ,essay on the ,sublime and ,beautiful still remains true3 in reading words or in listening to them1 we get the sound and the meaning and their impressions 7emotions71 but the images which float across the mind1 if there are any1 are often too vague or too inconstant to be of much relevance to the experience4 ,they are1 moreover1 highly individual in nature1 differing in kind and clearness from person to person4 ,the recent researches into imageless thinking are a striking confirmation of ,burke's observation4 ,it is now pretty clearly established that the meaning of words is something more than the images1 visual or other1 which they arouse4 ,probably the meaning is always carried by some sort of imagery1 differing with the mental make-up of the reader1 but the meaning cannot be equated to the imagery4 ,for example1 you and ,i both understand the word ocean2 but when ,i read the word1 ,i get a visual image of green water and sunlight1 while you perhaps get an auditory image of the sound of the waves as they break upon the shore4 ,sound1 meaning1 feeling1 these are the essential constituents of discourse2 imagery is variable and accidental4 ,it is impossible1 therefore1 to found the theory of poetry on the image-making power of words4 ,footnote3 ,for the opposite view1 consult ,max ,eastman3 ,the ,enjoyment of ,poetry4 ,and yet1 imagery plays a primary role in poetic speech4 ,for1 as we have observed so often1 feelings are more vital and permanent when embedded in concrete sensations and images than when attached to abstract meanings4 ,through the image1 the poet confers upon his art some of the sensuousness which it would otherwise lack4 ,it is not necessary that the image appear clear in the mind2 for its emotional value can be conveyed even when it is obscure and marginal4 ,when1 for example1 we read1 ,freeze1 freeze1 thou bitter sky1 ,thou dost not bite so nigh ,as benefits forgot1 the word bitter may arouse no vivid gustatory image1 the word bite no clear image of pain2 yet even when these images are very dim1 they serve none the less to establish the feeling of intense disagreeableness which the poet wishes to convey4 ,poetry1 therefore1 because it is more emotional than ordinary speech1 is more abundantly imaginal4 ,having distinguished in a general way the four elements of speech--sound1 meaning1 feeling1 and imagery--we are prepared to study them singly in greater detail4 ,we want to build out of a study of these elements a synthetic view of the nature and function of poetry1 and apply our results to some of its newer and more clamant forms4 ,let us begin with sound4 ,in our first chapter we observed that the medium of an art tends to become expressive in itself1--that in poetry the mere sound and articulation of words1 quite apart from anything which they mean1 may arouse and communicate feelings4 ,what we have called the primary expressiveness of the medium is nowhere better illustrated than in poetry4 ,but just what is expressed through sound1 and how8 ,every lover of poetry is aware of the large share which the mere sound of the words contributes to its beauty4 ,this is true even when we abstract from rhythm1 which we shall neglect for the time being1 and think only of euphony1 alliteration1 assonance1 and rime4 ,there is a joy truly surprising in the mere repetition of vowels and consonants4 ,for myself1 ,i find a pleasure in the mere repetition of vowels and consonants all out of proportion to what1 a priori1 ,i should be led to expect from so slight a cause4 ,and yet we have the familiar analogies by means of which we can understand this seemingly so strange delight1 the repeat in a pattern1 consonance in chord and melody4 ,if the repetition of the same color or line in painting1 the same tone in music1 can delight us1 why not the repetition of the same word-sound8 ,in all cases a like feeling of harmony is produced4 ,and the same general principle applies to explain it4 ,all word-sounds as we utter or hear them leave memory traces in the mind1 which are not pure images 7no memory traces are71 but also motor sets1 tendencies or impulses to the remaking of the sounds4 ,the doing of any deed--a word is also a deed--creates a will to its doing again2 hence the satisfaction when that will is fulfilled in the repeated sound1 when the image melts with the fact4 ,and the same law that rules in music and design holds here also3 there must not be too much of consonance1 of repetition1 else the will becomes satiated and fatigued2 there must be difference as well as identity1--the novelty and surprise which accompany the arousal of a still fresh and unappeased impulse4 ,this is well provided for in alternate rimes1 where the will to one kind of sound is suspended by the emergence of a different sound with its will1 and where the fulfillment of the one balances the fulfillment of the other4 ,all these facts are illustrated in such a stanza as this3-- ,fear no more the heat o' the sun ,nor the furious winter's rages2 ,thou thy worldly task hast done1 ,home art gone and ta'en thy wages2 ,golden lads and girls all must1 ,as chimney sweepers1 come to dust4 ,here1 for example1 the f-sound in fear finds harmonious fulfillment in furious2 the t-sound in task1 its mate in ta'en2 the g-sound in golden1 its match in girls2 sun and done1 rages and wages1 illustrate a balance of harmonies2 while in the consonance of must and dust1 the whole movement of the stanza comes to full and finished harmony4 ,thus taken together1 word-sounds1 as mere sounds1 are expressive of the general form-feelings of harmony and balance4 ,but can they express anything singly8 ,is there anything in poetry comparable to the expressiveness of single tones or of colors like red and blue and yellow8 ,to this1 ,i think1 the answer must be1 little or nothing4 ,almost all the expressiveness of single words comes from their meaning4 ,at all events1 the sound and meaning of a word are so inextricably fused that1 even when we suspect that it may have some expressiveness on its own account1 we are nearly incapable of disentangling it4 ,as ,william ,james has remarked1 a word-sound1 when taken by itself apart from its meaning1 gives an impression of mere queerness4 ,and when it does seem to have some distinctive quality1 we do not know how much really belongs to the sound and how much to some lingering bit of meaning which we have failed to separate in our analysis4 ,for example1 because of its initial s-sound and its hard consonants1 the word struggle seems to express1 in the effort required to pronounce it1 something of the emotional tone of struggle itself2 but how do we know that this is not due to the association with its meaning1 which we have been unable to abstract from8 ,even true onomatopoetic words like bang or crack derive1 ,i suspect1 most of their specific quality from their meaning4 ,they do have1 to be sure1 a certain mimetic impressiveness as mere sounds2 but that is very vague2 the meaning makes it specific4 ,the sheer length of the word multitudinous in ,shakespeare's line1 the multitudinous seas incarnadine1 seems to express something of the vastness and prolixity of the seas2 but would it if it were not used as an adjective describing the seas1 and if it did not have just the meaning that it has8 ,of course1 in this case1 the mere sound is effective1 but it gets most of its effectiveness because it happens to have a certain meaning4 ,moreover1 even the very sound quality of words depends much upon their meaning2 we pronounce them in a certain way1 with a certain slowness or swiftness1 a certain emphasis upon particular syllables1 with a high or low intonation1 in accordance with the emotion which we feel into them4 ,this is true of the word struggle just cited4 ,or consider another example4 ,take the word blow4 ,who1 in reading this word in ,blow1 blow1 thou winter wind1 would not increase its explosiveness just in order to make its expressiveness correspond to its meaning8 ,there is1 therefore1 a fundamental difference in this respect between single word-sounds and single colors or tones2 they are not sufficiently impressive in themselves1 not sufficiently separable from their meanings1 to have anything except the slightest value as mere sounds4 ,in collocation1 however1 and quite apart from rhythm and alliteration1 this minute expressiveness may add up to a considerable amount4 ,in ,matthew ,arnold's lines1 ,swept by confused alarms of struggle and flight ,where ignorant armies crash by night1 the hardness and difficulty of the consonants in their cumulative force become an independent element of expressiveness1 strengthening that of the meaning of the words4 ,or in ,tennyson's oft-quoted line1 the murmuring of innumerable bees1 the sounds taken together have a genuine imitative effect1 in which something of the drowsy feeling of the hive is present4 ,following the general law of harmony between form and content1 the beauty of sound should be functional2 that is1 it should never be developed for its own sake alone1 but also to intensify1 through re-expression1 the mood of the thoughts4 ,the sound-values are too lacking in independence to be purely ornamental4 ,poetry does indeed permit of embellishment--the pleasurable elaboration of sensation--yet should never degenerate into a mere tintinnabulation of sounds4 ,the rimes in binding words should bind thoughts also2 the tonalities or contrasts of vowel and consonant should echo harmonies or strains in pervasive moods4 ,it is by rhythm1 however1 that the chief expressiveness of the mere medium is imparted to verse4 ,but here again we shall find sound and meaning intertwined--a rhythm in thought governing a rhythm in sound4 ,only as a result of recent investigations can a satisfactory theory of modern verse be constructed4 ,the making of this theory has been largely hampered1 on the one hand1 by the application of the quantitative principles of classical verse to our poetry2 and1 on the other hand1 by forcing the analogy between music and verse4 ,the insufficiency of the quantitative scheme for ,english verse is not difficult to perceive4 ,such a scheme presupposes that syllables have a fixed quantity of duration1 as either long or short1 and that rhythm consists in the regularity of their distribution4 ,but1 although there are differences in the duration of syllables1 some being longer than others1 there are no fixed rules to determine whether a syllable is short or long2 and1 what is a more serious objection1 it is impossible to find any regularity in the occurrence of shorts and longs in normal ,english verse1--in all verse that has not been written with the explicit purpose of imitating the ,greek or ,latin4 ,an examination of any line of verse will verify these statements4 ,take1 for example1 the first three lines of ,shakespeare's song1 ,blow1 blow1 thou winter wind1 ,thou art not so unkind ,as man's ingratitude4 ,here the quantitative scansion is perhaps as follows3-- - - - - ,u - - - ,u x ,u - ,u - ,u - ,u - ,i have given the word so a double scansion because ,i conceive it impossible to determine whether it is really long or short4 ,at any rate1 there is certainly no regularity in the distribution of shorts and longs1 except in the last of the three lines1 and no correspondence1 except in that line1 between the quantitative scansion and the rhythmical movement of the verses4 ,and whenever such a correspondence exists1 it is due either to the fact that the incidence of stress tends to lengthen a syllable or to the fact that1 oftentimes1 in polysyllabic words1 mere length will produce a stress4 ,this is the modicum of truth in the quantitative view4 ,but obviously stress governs1 quantity obeys4 ,although the quantitative theory of modern verse has been pretty generally abandoned1 it cannot be said that the ordinary view which regards the foot as the unit of verse and its rhythm as determined by a regular distribution of accented and unaccented syllables1 is in a much better case4 ,for in the first place1 by accent is usually meant word-accent2 but monosyllabic words have no word-accent2 hence1 in a succession of such syllables1 the accent must be determined by some other factor2 and1 granting this1 there is the further fact to be reckoned with1 that poetic accent is relative--the supposedly unaccented syllable is often very highly accented1 more highly in fact than some of the so-called accented ones4 ,consider1 for example1 the line1 ,from sullen earth sings hymns at heaven's gate1 where the word sings1 which in accordance with the conventional iambic scansion would be an unaccented syllable1 is really strongly accented1 more strongly1 indeed1 than earth which has an accent4 ,as for the division of the line into feet1 that is a pure artifice3 who1 in the actual reading of the above line1 would divide the words sullen and heaven into two parts8 ,the basis of rhythm is1 therefore1 not word-accent4 ,value stress is the basis4,footnote3 ,throughout the discussion of rhythm ,i borrow from ,mark ,h4 ,liddell3 ,an ,introduction to the ,study of ,poetry4 ,certain words1 because of their logical or emotional importance1 have a greater claim upon the attention1 and this inner stress finds outward expression in an increased loudness1 duration1 and explosiveness of sound4 ,stress coincides with the word-accent of polysyllabic words because the accent is placed on those syllables1 usually the root-syllables1 which carry the essential meaning4 ,and this stress is not simply present or absent in a syllable1 but greater in some than in others2 in iambic rhythm1 usually greater in the even than in the preceding odd syllable2 in trochaic1 greater in the odd than in the immediately preceding even one4 ,the rhythm is rather an undulation of stresses than an alternation of stress and lack of stress1 something1 therefore1 far more complex and variegated than the old scheme would imply4 ,and of this undulation1 not the foot1 but the line is the unit4 ,the character of the undulation of the whole line determines the type of the rhythm1 which may be very different in the case of lines of precisely the same kind of feet4 ,for example1 the line quoted above1 ,from sullen earth sings hymns at heaven's gate1 has a distinctly different rhythm from such another iambic line as ,shall ,i compare thee to a summer's day8 ,this difference is due1 in part at least1 to the fact that the highest peaks of the wave in the former are in the center of the line1 in sings and hymns1 while in the latter they are at the end1 in summer's and day4 ,this undulation of stress is present in prose and in ordinary speech2 for there also there is a rise and fall of stress corresponding to the varying values of the words and syllables2 but in prose1 the undulation is irregular1 while in poetry1 it is regularized4 ,from the foregoing it is clear that rhythm does not exist in the mere sound of the words alone1 but in the thought back of them as well4 ,the sounds1 as such1 have no rhythm in themselves2 they acquire rhythm through the subjective processes of significant utterance or listening4 ,the rhythm is primarily in these activities1 and from them is transferred to the sounds in which they are embodied4 ,this comes out with additional force when we go farther into the analysis of the rhythm of verse4 ,we have just seen that the line is one unit of the rhythm 7this is true even when there are run-over lines1 because we make a slight pause after the ends of such lines too72 but within the line itself there are sub-units4 ,these sub-units are units of thought4 ,every piece of written or spoken language is a continuous flow of thought4 ,but the movement is not perfectly fluid2 for it is broken up into elementary pulses of ideas1 following discontinuously upon each other4 ,in prose the succession of pulses is complex and irregular1 without any obvious pattern2 but in poetry the movement is simple and regular and the pattern is clear4 ,just as in poetry there is a rhythm of stress which represents a regularizing of the natural undulations in the stress of speech1 so there is also a more deep-lying rhythm1 which arises through a simplification and regularizing of the movement of thought-pulsations4 ,the fundamental rhythm consists in an alternation of subject-group and predicate-group4 ,this duality1 although always retained as basal1 may1 however1 be broken up into a three- or four-part movement whenever the connecting links between the subject-idea and the predicate-idea acquire sufficient importance1 or whenever the one or the other of the two becomes sufficiently complex to consist of lesser parts4 ,for example1 in ,shakespeare's thirty-first sonnet1 the thought-divisions are three for each of the following lines3-- ,thy bosom is endeared with all hearts ,which ,i by lacking have supposed dead2 ,and there reigns love1 and all love's loving parts1 ,and all those friends which ,i thought buried4 ,these divisions are marked by pauses or casuras4 ,here1 then1 in the regularizing of the number of thought-pulsations1 we have another type of rhythm in poetry1 and a rhythm which1 coming from within1 finds outward expression in sound4 ,cutting across the rhythm of stress1 it breaks up the latter with its pauses1 and imparts to the whole movement variety and richness4 ,but speech has not only its natural rhythm of stress-undulation and thought-pulsations2 it has also1 as we saw in the last chapter1 a melody4 ,the rise and fall of stress goes hand and hand with a rise and fall of pitch4 ,the different forms of discourse1 and the different emotions that accompany them1 are each expressed with characteristic variations in pitch4 ,accepting ,wundt's summary of the facts1 we find that1 generally speaking1 in the declarative statement and the command1 the pitch rises in the first thought-division1 to fall in the second2 while in the question and the condition1 the pitch rises and falls in the first1 and then rises again in the second4 ,doubt1 expectation1 tension1 excitement--all the forward looking moods of incompleteness--tend to find expression in a rising melody2 while assurance1 repose1 relaxation1 fulfillment1 are embodied in a falling melody4 ,the high tones are dynamic and stimulating2 the low tones1 static and peaceful4 ,now in ordinary speech and prose1 the change from one tone to another is constant and irregular1 following the variation of mood in the substance of the discourse4 ,how is it with verse8 ,there is a simplification and tonality--identity in tone--which is absent from prose4 ,the melody is more obvious and distinctive1 because there is a greater simplicity in sentence structure and a higher unity of mood4 ,yet there is no absolute regularity2 and the amount of it differs with the different kinds of poetry3 there is more in the simple lyric than in the complex narrative2 more1 for example1 in ,shakespeare's sonnets than in his dramas4 ,the inexpressible beauty of some lines of verse comes doubtless from a fugitive melody which we now grasp1 now lose4 ,the existence of speech melody and the tonalities of rime1 assonance1 and alliteration suggest an analogy between verse and music4 ,for some people1 this analogy is decisive4 ,yet the fundamental difference between music and verse must be insisted on with equal force2 the purity of tone and fixity of intervals between tones1 which is distinctive of music1 is absent from verse4 ,in comparison with music1 the melodiousness of verse is confused and chaotic2 and this condemns to failure any attempt to identify the laws of the two arts4 ,still1 we are not yet at the end of the analogy4 ,those who interpret verse in terms of music believe that1 underlying or supplanting the rhythm of stress1 there is another rhythm1 similar to time in music1 and capable of expression in musical language4 ,there is1 it is claimed1 an equality of duration between one line and another1 and between one foot in a line and another2 these larger and lesser stretches of duration being divided up between syllables and pauses1 each syllable and pause occupying a fixed quantity of time2 just as in music each bar is divided up between notes and rests of definite value4 ,lanier1 for example writes the first line of ,poe's ,raven as follows3--,footnote3 ,the ,science of ,english ,verse1 p4 #abh4 ,illustration ,once up on a mid-night drear-y2 ,fascinating as this procedure is1 it is nevertheless a distortion of the facts4 ,poetry is meant to be read1 not to be sung2 when it is put to music and sung1 it acquires a character which otherwise does not belong to it4 ,we must not be misled by the historical connection between verse and song1 nor by the frequency with which some verses are set to music4 ,our poetry must be understood as we experience it to-day1 not as it was experienced in its origins4 ,and there is surely much poetry which no one wants to sing4 ,no one wants to sing a sonnet or ,miltonic blank verse4 ,the attempt to apply musical notation to verse is a tour de force4 ,careful observation and experience show that the syllables in verse have no fixed duration values1 and that there is no constant ratio between them4 ,nevertheless1 musical time is not wholly absent from verse4 ,you cannot set it to the metronome or express it in musical notation1 yet it is there4 ,when lines have the same number of syllables1 the time required to read them is approximately the same1 and we tend to make the duration of the thought-divisions equal4 ,our time-sense is so fallible1 we do not notice the departures from exactness2 and when the durations of processes are nearly equal and the values which we attach to them are equal1 then we are conscious of them as equal4 ,attention-value and time-value are subjectively equivalent4 ,words which weigh with us give us pause1 and we reckon in the time of the pause to make up for a deficiency in the time required to read or utter the syllables4 ,and so time-rhythm enters as still another factor in the complex rhythm of verse4 ,the importance of this rhythm differs1 however1 with the different kinds of verse4 ,in lyric poetry closely allied to song1 it is clear and strong2 while in the more reflective and dramatic poetry1 it is only an undertone4 ,in some cases1 as in the nursery rime1 ,hot cross buns1 hot cross buns1 ,if your daughters don't like 'em1 ,give 'em to your sons4 ,one a penny1 two a penny1 ,hot cross buns1 there is almost no rhythm of stress1 but there is a rhythm of time2 for despite the inequality in the number of syllables1 each line has approximately the same duration1 even the last line with its three monosyllabic words being lengthened out into equality with the others4 ,the variety in the rhythm is secured through the unequal number of syllables in the same stretch of duration1 the more rapid movement of many syllables being set off over against the slower movement of the few4 ,similarly1 ,tennyson's poem1 which should be scanned as ,i shall indicate1 has a rhythm which is chiefly musical4 ,break1 break1 break1 ,on thy cold1 grey stones1 ,o sea6 ,and ,i would that my tongue might utter ,the thoughts ,that arise in me4 ,the stresses are nearly even throughout2 the meter cannot be accurately described as iambic1 trochaic1 or anapestic2 yet there is a rhythm in the approximate temporal equality of the thought-moments4 ,these verses are1 however1 rather songs than poems4 ,the failure to distinguish between verses which are songs and those which are poems accounts1 ,i believe1 for the extremes to which the musical theory of verse has been carried4 ,still another element of poetry which allies it to music is the repetition of the thought-content4 ,why repetition should be musical we already know3 music is an art which seeks to draw out and elaborate pure emotion2 repetition serves this end by constantly bringing the mind back to dwell upon the same theme4 ,moreover1 repetition involves retardation2 for a movement cannot progress rapidly if it has to return upon itself2 and this slowness gives time for the full value of a feeling to be worked out4 ,in all the more emotional and lyric poetry we find1 therefore1 recurrence of theme3 the thought is repeated again and again2 in new forms1 perhaps1 yet still the same in essence1 successive lines or stanzas taking up the same burden2 sometimes there is exact recurrence of thought1 as in the refrain4 ,and this repetition in the thought is embodied in a repetition of the elements of the sound-pattern2 the wave type is repeated from verse to verse or recurs again and again2 there is recurrence of melodic form or parallelism between contrasted melodies in different stanzas2 there is tonality of vowel and consonant sounds in rime and assonance and alliteration2 there may be an approach to identity in the time-duration of the various units4 ,parallelism or repetition is the fundamental scheme of such poetry4 ,but between repetition with its retardation of movement and progress towards a goal there is a necessary antagonism2 hence in the more dramatic and narrative forms of poetry1 although recurrence is never entirely absent1 there is less of it1 and the movement approximates to that of prose4 ,emotion demands repetition1 but action demands progression4 ,after our analysis of the rhythm of poetry1 we are in a position to inquire into what can be expressed through it1 and how psychologically this expression can be explained4 ,the expressiveness of rhythm is like that of music1 vague and objectless1 for which reason rhythm is properly called the music of verse4 ,almost everything in a general way which we have said about the expressiveness of music applies to poetic rhythm4 ,this expressiveness cannot be translated into words with any exactness2 the most that can be done is to find a set of words into which it will roughly fit1 leaving much vacant space of meaning4 ,that the emotional values of rhythms have character is1 however1 proved by the fact that some rhythms are better vehicles for certain kinds of thought than others are4 ,yet it often happens that1 just as1 in song or opera1 the same melody is used to express joy or grief1 love or religious emotion1 so approximately the same rhythmic form is employed in the expression of apparently antagonistic emotions4 ,nevertheless1 this fact is not fatal to expression2 for1 in the first place1 there is much variety of rhythm within a given metrical form1 so that what superficially may seem to be the same rhythm is really a different one2 and1 in the second place1 as we have already observed in the case of music1 there is much--in form and energy of movement--which contrasting emotions have in common1 and this may be expressed in the rhythmic type4 ,think of the wide sweep of emotions which have been expressed in the sonnet form6 ,yet consider what varieties of rhythm and speech melodies are possible within this form1 and how1 nevertheless1 there is an identity of character in all sonnets--how they are all thoughtful1 all restrained1 yet unfaltering in their movement6 ,without going into details1 which would lie beyond the scope of general sthetics1 it is possible to state the following broad facts 7compare the similar facts relating to melody7 with reference to poetic rhythms3 a rising rhythm expresses striving or restlessness2 a falling rhythm1 quiet1 steadfastness4 ,there is1 however1 no absolute contrast between the two kinds1 because a falling rhythm is still a rhythm1 and that means a movement which necessarily contains something of instability and unrest4 ,the contrast is sharpest in the anapestic and dactylic1 less sharp in the trochaic and iambic4 ,many a trochaic rhythm becomes in effect iambic when the division of the thought moments and the distribution of the pauses make the rhythm rise after the first few words2 and conversely1 many an iambic rhythm becomes trochaic through a similar shift in the attention4 ,within a single line1 therefore1 there may be both rising and falling pulsations4 ,much of the rare beauty of poetry comes from such subtle combinations of rhythmic qualities4 ,through time and tempo also1 poetic rhythm is expressive1 much after the manner of music2 by these means too1 in addition to the mode of stress-undulation1 it imitates the temporal and dynamic course of action and emotion1 and so tends to arouse congruous types of feeling in the mind2 it is swift or slow1 gliding or abrupt1 retarded or accelerated4 ,compare the slow and retarded rhythm of ,when ,i have fears that ,i may cease to be1 so well adapted to express the gravity of the thought1 with the rapid and accelerated movement of ,hail to thee1 blithe spirit6 so full of a quick joyousness4 ,or compare the light legato movement of ,bird of the wilderness1 blithesome and cumberless1 with the heavy staccato movement of ,waste endless and boundless and flowerless4 ,yet1 for all its expressiveness1 the music of verse can never stand alone4 ,it is too bare and tenuous by itself to win and keep the attention or to evoke much feeling4 ,it does not possess the purity of color1 the loudness1 force1 or volume of sound that belong to music and make music1 almost alone of the arts1 capable of existing as mere form4 ,the rhythm of poetry1 derived very largely from a rhythm of thought1 has need of thought for significance4 ,the thought and the music are one4 ,for this reason poetry is better1 ,i think1 when read to oneself than when read aloud2 for then the sound and the sense are more intimate2 the attention is not drawn off to the former away from the latter4 ,moreover1 try as he will1 the poet can never make his word-sounds fully harmonious2 some roughness and dissonance will remain2 but in silent reading these qualities disappear4 ,however1 although by itself of small significance1 the musical element in verse makes all the difference between poetry and prose4 ,through its own vague expressiveness it fortifies the emotional meaning of the poetic language1 and1 at the same time1 sublimates it by scattering it in the medium4 ,and finally it imparts an intimacy1 a personal flavor1 which also allies poetry with music2 for the substance of rhythm is the movement of our own inner processes2 the rhythm of thoughts and sounds is a rhythm in our own listening and attending1 our own thinking and feeling2 the emotional values spring from us as well as from the subject-matter4 ,hence even narrative and dramatic poetry have a lyrical tone2 we ourselves are implicated in the actions and events portrayed4 ,the demands made by the form of poetry upon its substance are similar to those made by music upon the words in a song1 only less stringent4 ,the content must be emotional and significant2 it cannot be trite and cold4 ,the meaning of words would permit the poet to bring before the mind all possible objects1 events1 and ideas1 but the music of words would be incongruous with most of them4 ,events narrated must be stirring1 thoughts uttered must be emotionally toned1 things described must be related to human life and action4 ,poetry may desert the royal themes of long ago--arma virumque cano1 maenin aeide thea--and relate the lowly life of common folk1 even the sordid life of the poor and miserable1 but when doing so throws over it the musical glamour of verse and arouses the heat of sympathy and passion4 ,although1 since it makes use of words1 poetry should always have a meaning1 it need not have the definiteness of meaning of logical thought2 it may suggest rather than explicate2 its music is compatible with vagueness4 ,but vagueness is not obscurity2 the poet should always make us feel that we understand him2 he should not seek to mystify us1 or keep us guessing at his meaning4 ,yet1 since the poet operates with words and not with mere sounds1 great subtlety and precision of thought are possible in poetry1 although not argument and dialectic4 ,poetry may express the results of reflection1 so far as they are of high emotional value1 but cannot well reproduce its processes2 the steps of analysis and inference are too cold and hard for the muse to climb4 ,on the other hand1 poetry does not permit of the development and iteration of pure feeling which we find in music2 for poetic rhythms and melodies lack the variety and fluency of the musical4 ,yet poetry is capable1 where music is not1 of expressing brief1 quick outbursts of feeling2 for a few words1 by referring to the causes and conditions of feeling1 may adequately express what music needs time and many tones to convey4 ,poetry wins beauty by concentration1 whereas music gains by expansion4 ,there is also a similar relation between prose and poetry in this respect2 the severity of the form imposes upon poetry a simplicity which contrasts with the breadth and complexity of prose4 ,as ,schopenhauer remarked1 every good poem is short2 long poems always contain stretches either of unmusical verse or unpoetic music4 ,yet1 in comparison with prose1 the tempo of music is slow2 we have to linger in the medium in order that its rhythmic and tonal beauties may impress us1 and this slowness of movement is imparted to the thought2 even narrative and dramatic poetry suffer retardation2 for which reason the poetic form must be abandoned if great rapidity of expression is sought4 ,from our study of the materials and forms of its expression1 it becomes clear how the subject-matter of poetry is the inner life of mood and striving and passionate human action4 ,emotions may be poured forth in words1 and1 by means of words1 actions may be described4 ,but neither passion nor action appear in poetry as they are lived and enacted2 for the poet1 working in a medium of words1 has to translate them into thoughts4 ,words cannot embody the real experiences which they express2 experience is fleeting and falls away from the words1 which retain only an echo of what they mean4 ,only what can be relived in memory can be contained in a word1 and not even all of that2 for a word is not a mere embodiment of an experience1 but a communication also1 and only its public and universal content can pass from a speaker to a hearer4 ,now1 this socialized content of a word is a thought4 ,even passion the most spontaneous and lyrical has to be translated into thought1--not the abstract thought of scientific expression1 but the emotionally toned thought of art1 thought which1 while condensing experience1 still keeps its values4 ,emotional thought is the substance of poetry4 ,however1 albeit an image of the inner life1 poetry does not volatilize it into pure feeling as music does1 but distinguishes its objects and assigns its causes4 ,poetry is concrete and articulate where music is abstract and blind4 ,since words1 through their meanings and associated images1 can express things as well as man's reactions to them1 poetry can also reflect the natural environment of life1 its habitat and seat4 ,and yet1 because the poet has to translate things into ideas1 nature never appears in poetry as it is in itself1 but as it is implicated in mind4 ,for the poet1 sea and sky1 the woods and plains and rivers1 birds and flowers1 are the symbols of human destiny or the loci of human action4 ,emotion overflows into nature1 but this involves the taking up of nature into man4 ,not nature1 but man's thoughtful life is the poet's theme4 ,if the foregoing statement is correct1 emotional thought rather than imagery is the substance of poetry4 ,for poetry1 as music with a meaning1 can be quite free of definite images4 ,in la sua volantade e nostra pace 7,in his will is our peace7 ,footnote3 ,dante3 ,paradiso1 #c1 #he4 is beautiful poetry1 yet there is no image4 ,the thought formulates a mood and finds a sensuous embodiment in musical language1 and that suffices for beauty4 ,and yet in poetry1 as has been observed1 thought tends to descend into imagery4 ,by being connected with a sensuous material1 a thought acquires a firmer support for feeling than it could possess of itself as a mere concept4 ,especially effective is the descent to the lower senses2 for they are closest to the roots of emotion4 ,let me recall again the ,shakespearean lyric which ,i have quoted before in a similar connection1 omitting the last lines of each stanza3-- ,blow1 blow1 thou winter wind1 ,thou art not so unkind ,as man's ingratitude2 ,thy tooth is not so keen ,because thou art not seen1 ,although thy breath be rude4 ,freeze1 freeze1 thou bitter sky1 ,thou dost not bite so nigh ,as benefits forgot2 ,though thou the waters warp1 ,thy sting is not so sharp ,as friend remembered not4 ,here are images of cold--winter1 freeze2 of touch--blow1 breath2 of pain--tooth1 bite1 sting1 sharp2 of taste--bitter4 ,how vividly they convey the ache of desolation6 ,only in words which are imaginative as well as musical are the full resources of verbal expression employed4 ,all the various forms of metaphorical language have the same purpose3 by substituting for a more abstract1 conceptual mode of expression a more sensuous and imaginative one1 to vivify the emotional quality of the situation4 ,when ,keats sings1 444 on the shore ,of the wide world ,i stand and think ,till ,love and ,fame to nothingness do sink1 he has in mind to convey to us that renunciation of merely personal ambitions which comes to us when we survey all time and all existence4 ,and how does he do it8 ,by evoking the image of the wide stretch of the shore of the sea1 which1 making us feel our nothingness as we stand and look out upon it1 has the same effect1 only more poignant4 ,of the world we have no image--not so1 of the shore of the world2 and toward what we cannot imagine we cannot easily feel4 ,oftentimes the metaphor is latent1 a mere adjective undeveloped in its implications1 as in bitter sky2 yet the purpose is the same4 ,incidentally the poet unifies our world for us through his metaphors2 not as the scientist does by pointing out causal and class relations1 but by exhibiting the emotional affinities of things4 ,he increases the value of single things by giving them the values of other things4 ,every metaphor should serve this purpose of emotional expression and unification1 should be part of an emotional thought2 otherwise it is a mere tour de force of cleverness1 unrelated to the poetic interest and intrinsically absurd1--the world has no shore and the wind is not bitter2 feeling alone can justify such comparisons4 ,moreover1 too many metaphors1 or metaphors too elaborately developed1 by scattering the attention1 or by drawing it away from the meaning of which the image should be a part1 have the effect of no image at all4 ,the poetry of ,francis ,thompson1 for example1 loses rather than gains vitality through its imaginative exuberance4 ,we object to decadent poets1 not because they are sensuous1 but because they lack feeling2 with them sensation1 instead of supporting emotion1 supplants it4 ,such poets seek to atone for their want of vigorous feeling by stimulating our eyes and ears4 ,if1 as ,i believe1 emotional thought rather than imagery is the essence of poetry1 then the modern school of imagists and their ,french forbears among the ,parnassiens are mistaken4 ,their effort comes in the end to a revival of the old thesis ut pictura poesis1 the attempt to make poetry a vision of nature rather than an expression of the inner life4 ,they would lead poetry away from the subjectivity of emotion into the outer object world4 ,now1 it is indeed possible for the poet to represent nature through the images which words evoke in the mind1 and these images may have significance for feeling4 ,their very evocation in musical language is bound to lend them some warmth of mood4 ,yet--as ,lessing showed in his ,laocoon1 despite all the crabbed narrowness of his treatment--it is hopeless for the poet to enter into rivalry with the painter or sculptor4 ,the colors and forms of things which the poet paints for the eye of the mind are mere shadows in comparison with those which we really see4,footnote3 ,the best the poet-painter can do is to express his memories of the outer world2 but apart from some vivid emotion1 memories are unsatisfactory in comparison with realities4 ,we admire the marvelous workmanship of such verses as the following of ,gautier1 but they leave us cold2 even the melody of the language is incapable of making them warm4 ,how poor they are beside a painting6 ,les femmes passent sous les arbres ,en martre1 hermine et menu-vair ,et les deesses1 frileux marbres1 ,ont pris aussi l'abit d'hiver4 ,la ,venus ,anadyomene ,est en pelisse a capuchon3 ,flore1 que la brise malmene1 ,plonge ses mains dans son manchon4 ,et pour la saison1 les bergeres ,de ,coysevox et de ,coustou1 ,trouvant leures echarpes legeres ,ont des boas autour du cou4 ,of course1 poetic pictures can be painted--,gautier has painted them--but the standard for each art is set by what it can do uniquely well4 ,if the poet works in the domain of the painter1 we tend to judge him by the alien standards of another art1 where he is bound to fall short2 while if he works within his own province1 we judge him by his own autonomous laws1 under which he can achieve perfection4 ,oftentimes1 confessing the inability of the image to stand alone1 these poets make it into a symbol of some mood or emotional thought4 ,yet the image remains the chief object of the poet's care2 it was clearly the first thing in his mind2 the interpretation is an afterthought4 ,the poem therefore falls into two parts--a picture and an interpretation1 with little organic relation between them4 ,another one of ,gautier's poems will serve to illustrate what ,i mean4,footnote3 ,there are some good examples of this in ,baudelaire's ,fleures du ,mat4 ,see for one1,l',albatros4 ,,les ,,colombes ,sur le coteau1 la-bas ou sont les tombes1 ,un beau palmier1 comme un panache vert1 ,dresse sa tete1 ou le soir les colombes ,viennent nicher et se mettre a couvert1 ,mais le matin elles quittent les branches2 ,comme un collier qui s'egrene1 on les voit ,s'eparpiller dans ,fair bleu1 toutes blanches1 ,et se poser plus loin sur quelque toil4 ,mon ame est l'arbre ou tous les soirs1 comme elles1 ,de blancs essaims de folles visions ,tombent des cieux1 en palpitant des ailes1 ,pour s'envoler des les premiers rayons4 ,finally1 the effort to detach poetry from the inner world and make it an expression of outer things1 is incompatible with its musical character4 ,for music is essentially subjective1 an expression of pure mood unaffixed to objects4 ,as rhythmical1 poetry shares the inwardness of music2 wherefore1 unless its rhythm is to be a mere functionless1 ornamental dress1 whatever it expresses should have its source in the inner man4 ,of course1 through their meanings1 word-sounds indicate the causes and objects of emotion--and this differentiates music from poetry--but in poetry the emotion is still the primary thing1 springing from inner strivings1 and not from objects1 as in painting and sculpture4 ,it is therefore no accident that the contemporary imagists tend to abandon the forms of verse2 their poetry has little or no regular rhythm2 it approximates to prose4 ,for in proportion as poetry becomes free1 it ceases to be tied to musical expressiveness1 and may become objective1 without prejudice to its own nature4 ,prose poetry1 and prose too1 of course1 may be highly emotional and subjective1 for words can express emotions directly without any rhythmical ordering2 yet prose need not be subjective1 as poetry must be4 ,there is no absolute difference between prose and poetry2 for even prose has its rhythm and its euphony1 its expressiveness of the medium2 yet in prose the rhythm is irregular and accidental and the expressiveness of the medium incomplete1 while in poetry the rhythm is regular and pervasive and ideally every sound-element1 as mere sound1 is musical4 ,but this more complete musical expressiveness of the medium restricts poetry to a more inward world4 ,by abandoning the strict forms and restraints of regular rhythms1 the writers of free verse think to gain spontaneity and something of the amplitude of prose2 yet it is doubtful whether they gain as much as they lose4 ,for1 in the hands of the skillful poet1 the form1 having become second nature1 ceases to be a bond2 and the expression1 by taking on regularity of rhythm1 acquires a concentration and mnemonic value which free verse cannot achieve4 ,in comparison with free verbal expressions1 verse forms are1 indeed1 artifices2 yet they are not artificial1 in the bad sense of functionless1 for they possess irreplaceable values4 ,nevertheless1 it would be strange if they were not from time to time abandoned1 the poet reverting to the freedom of ordinary speech2 just as now and then1 in civilized communities1 we find vigorous and sincere men who tire of culture and take to the woods4 ,the triplicity of the word1 as sound1 image1 meaning1 provides a certain justification for the variety of tastes in poetry1 and accounts for the difficulty of setting up a single universal standard4 ,there is an unstable equilibrium between the three aspects of words2 hence poetry tends to become predominantly music or painting or thought1 yet can never succeed in becoming completely any one of these4 ,and it is inevitable that some people should be more sensitive to one rather than to another of the aspects of words1 preferring therefore the more musical1 or the more thoughtful1 or the more pictorial poetry4 ,and so we have poems that would be music1 and others that would be pictures1 and still others that would be epigrams4 ,and each kind has a certain right and beauty2 but no kind has the unique beauty that is poetical4 ,we do not ask their makers not to produce them1 nor do we condemn the pleasures which they afford us1 but we cannot commend them without reservation4 ,for the best poems achieve a synthesis of the elements of words1--they are at once musical and imaginative and thoughtful4 ,yet with difficulty2 for there is an antagonism among the elements3 when the music is insistent1 the thought is obscured2 when the images are elaborate1 their meaning is lost to sight2 when the thought is subtle or profound1 it rejects the image and is careless of sound4 ,swinburne's poetry is full of philosophy1 but is so sensuous and musical that we miss its thoughts2 ,browning is too subtle a thinker to be a musician4 ,the complexity of poetry is the source of its strength1 lending it something of the inwardness of music and the plasticity of the pictorial arts2 but is also the source of its weakness4 ,seldom does it achieve the technical purity and perfection of music and painting and sculpture4 ,music has a clear and simple medium1 painting and sculpture work with colors and forms which almost are what they represent2 but word-sounds are not what they mean1 and what they mean is not precisely the same as the images which they evoke2 too often the correspondence is factitious and artificial1 rarely is there fusion4 ,yet1 as ,i have tried to show1 when meaning is made central1 sound may fit it closely1 and when the meaning is emotional1 the music of sound may echo its cry1 and the image1 instead of rebelling1 may serve4 ,emotional thought is the essence of poetry and the link between its music and its pictures4 ,of the different modes of poetry1 the lyric has rightly seemed the most typical4 ,being an expression of a single1 simple mood1 its subject-matter is most closely akin to the musical expressiveness of the rhythm and euphony of the medium4 ,when1 moreover1 the mood is a common one1 there occurs that identification of self with the passion expressed characteristic of music3 the utterance becomes ours as well as the poet's2 the ,i of the poem is the ,i who read4 ,this is especially true when the setting and causes of the emotion are without name or place or date2 the poem then shares the timelessness and universality of music4 ,in such a lyric there is complete symmetry in the relation between speaker and hearer2 the poet unburdens his heart to us1 and we in receiving his message tell it back to him4 ,when1 on the other hand1 in explaining his feelings1 the poet relates them to events and persons which have been no part of our experience1 this symmetry is lost2 we no longer utter the poem ourselves1 but merely hear the poet speak4 ,such poetry is already approaching the dramatic2 for although still the expression of the poet's life1 it is no longer an expression of the reader's life1 and the poet also1 as he lives past his experience1 must come at length to view it as if it were another's4 ,and yet1 paradoxical as it may sound1 dramatic poetry is dramatic in proportion as it is lyrical--that is1 according to the degree to which the poet has made the life of others his own4 ,dramatic poetry1 when truly poetic1 is a series of lyrics of the less universal type4 ,in another respect1 however1 dramatic poetry is essentially different from the lyrical4 ,for1 in dramatic poetry1 each utterance is a response or invitation to another utterance1 while in lyric poetry1 utterance is complete in itself4 ,the one is social1 the other personal3 in the appreciation of the lyric1 the reader is just himself2 in the appreciation of dramatic poetry1 he is a whole society1 becoming now this man and now that4 ,the unity of the one is the unity of a single mood2 the unity of the other is the interaction of the dramatis person as it works itself out in the mind of the reader4 ,and this difference1 as we have seen1 is imaged in the form4 ,being self-contained1 the lyric is a harmonious whole1 in which the parts may be repeated for emphasis2 looking backward and forward1 the dramatic utterance is a progressive and incomplete whole1 which cannot stay for iteration4 ,lyric poetry is like a communication from friend to friend1 intimate and meditative2 dramatic poetry is like a passionate conversation which one overhears4 ,the life portrayed in the epic poem is even less direct than that which is portrayed in the drama2 for there the poet does not impersonate the agents in the story1 but describes them4 ,his description is the first thing which we get2 we get the action only indirectly through that4 ,hence the story-teller himself--his manner of telling1 his reactions to what he tells1 his sympathy1 humor1 and intelligence--are part of what he expresses4 ,he himself is partly theme4 ,no matter how hard he may try to do so1 he cannot exclude himself2 through his choice of words1 through his illustrations1 through his style1 which is the man1 he will reveal himself4 ,footnote3 ,see ,lipps3 ,aesthetik1 ,bd4 #a1 s4 #die et seq4 ,we inevitably apprehend1 not merely his thoughts1 but him thinking4 ,in the epic form of poetry1 the poet has1 moreover1 an opportunity for a more direct mode of self-revelation1 an opportunity for comment and judgment upon the life which he portrays4 ,and this we should accept1 not in a spirit of controversy or criticism1 but with sympathy1 as a part of the total aesthetic expression1 striving to get1 not only the poet's story1 but his point of view regarding it as well4 ,this duality in the life of the epic involves a two-foldness in its time4 ,in both lyric and dramatic poetry1 life moves before us as a single stream actual in the present2 but in the epic there is the time of the story-teller1 which is present1 and the time of the events that he relates1 which is past4 ,and being past1 these events appear as it were at a distance1 at arms' length and remote2 they lack the vivid reality of things present4 ,moreover1 since the past is finished1 unlike the present which is ever moving and creating itself anew1 the epic1 in comparison with the drama1 comes to us with its parts as it were coexisting and complete1 more after the manner of space than of time4 ,and just as a spatial thing allows us to survey its parts by turn1 since they are all there before we look2 so1 in reading an epic1 we feel that we can proceed at our leisure and1 despite the causal relation1 take the incidents in any order4 ,it is not so in the drama1 where events move rapidly and make themselves in a determined sequence4 ,this is what ,goethe meant when he said that substantiality was the category of the epic1 causality of the drama1 although1 of course1 this distinction is not absolute4 ,finally1 the fact that the epic poet tells rather than impersonates his story1 enables him to enlarge its scope2 for by means of descriptions he can introduce nature as one of the persons of the action4 ,footnote3 ,compare ,munsterberg3 ,the ,eternal ,values1 p4 #bcc4 ,he can show the molding influence of nature upon man1 and how man1 in turn1 interacts not only with his fellows1 but with his environment4 ,fate1 in the sense of the non-human determinants of man's career1 can show its hand4 ,in the ,odyssey1 for example1 shipwreck and the interference of the gods are factors as decisive as ,odysseus' courage and cunning4 ,by contrast1 in lyric poetry1 nature is merely a reflection of moods2 in dramatic poetry1 it is simply the passive1 causally ineffective stage for a social experience wholly determined by human agents4 ,this distinction is1 however1 not absolute4 ,in ,brand1 for example1 through the stage directions and the utterance of the persons1 we are indirectly made aware of the control exerted by the physical background of the action2 in the ,greek drama we learn this from the ,chorus and the ,prologue4 ,,chapter ,x ,,prose ,,literature ,there is an almost universal feeling1 expressed in many common phrases1 that prose literature is not one of the fine arts4 ,the reason is this3 in prose literature there is a conspicuous absence of beauty of form and sensation1 of the decorative1 in comparison with the other arts4 ,the vague expressiveness and charm of the medium1 the musical aspect1 is largely lacking4 ,not wholly lacking1 of course1 as a multitude of beautiful passages testify2 yet1 in general1 it remains true that1 in prose1 the medium tends to be transparent1 sacrificing itself in order that nothing may stand between what it reveals to thought and the imagination4 ,it fulfills its function when the words are not unpleasant to the ear1 and when their flow1 adapting itself to the span and pulsation of the attention1 is so smooth as to become unnoticeable1 like the movement of a ship on a calm sea1--when it is a means to an end1 not an end in itself4 ,prose literature is1 therefore1 incompletely beautiful4 ,the full meaning and value of the aesthetic are not to be found there1 but rather in poetry1 painting1 sculpture1 music1 architecture4 ,yet prose literature remains art1 if incomplete art--a free1 personal expression of life1 for the sake of contemplation4 ,as free1 it differs from verbal expression in the service of practical ends1 and as personal1 it cannot be classed with science4 ,throughout the long course of its history1 it has tended to become now the one1 now the other of these--and its lack of the decorative element has done much to make this possible--but its power to outlast the moral and political issues which it has so often sought to direct1 and its well-merited rejection by sociologists and psychologists as anything more than material for their work1 are sufficient evidence and warning of where it properly belongs1--among the arts4 ,the sacrifice of the musical element in the medium does not have to be justified on practical grounds as making for efficiency1 or on scientific grounds as favoring analysis1 but may be understood from the artistic standpoint4 ,for it was only through a method and medium that renounced the musical manner of poetry1 with its vaguely expressive1 yet rigid forms1 that the fullness and minuteness of life could be represented4 ,even the more fluently musical manner of poetical prose is unsuited as a medium for the expression of the kind of life which is represented in normal prose4 ,poetical prose is appropriate for the expression of deeds and sentiments of high and mystical import only1 but not for the expression of the more commonplace or definitely and complexly articulated phases of life4 ,for the latter1 the broader and freer and more literal method of strict prose is the only appropriate medium of expression4 ,the unmusical character of prose style is not determined by weakness1 but by adaptation to function4 ,and1 although the medium of prose is attenuated almost to the vanishing point1 where it may seem to be lost1 it may nevertheless borrow from its content a beauty of rhythm1 imagery1 and form that will seem to be its very own4 ,for in language1 as we observed in our discussion of poetry1 the meaning and the symbol are so closely one1 that it becomes impossible1 except by analysis1 to distinguish them4 ,prose rhythm is fundamentally a rhythmical movement of ideas1 like poetic rhythm1 only without regularization2 yet1 since the ideas are carried by the words1 it belongs to them also2 images blossom from ideas1 yet they too seem to belong to the words in which they are incarnated2 and the harmony and symmetry which thoughts and images may contain as we compose them synthetically in the memory1 make an architecture of words4 ,the transparent medium of prose shares the beauty of its content1 just as a perfect glass partakes of the color of the light which it transmits4 ,the psychologic roots of prose literature are the impulses to self- revelation and to acquaintance with life4 ,every thing that has once entered into our lives1 no matter how intimate1 craves to come out2 the instinct of gregariousness extends1 as we have noted1 to the whole of the mind4 ,the completely private and uncommunicated makes us as uncertain and afraid of ourselves as physical loneliness4 ,but in addition to the dislike for any form of isolation1 even when purely spiritual1 there is another factor which determines self-revelation1--the desire for praise4 ,we want a larger audience for our exploits than the people immediately involved in them1 so we tell them to any listening ear4 ,the friend whispering his confession illustrates the one motive2 the hero bragging of his deeds illustrates the other4 ,the desire to hear another's story is the obverse of the desire to tell one about oneself1 just as the impulse to welcome a friend is the complement of his impulse to seek our companionship2 we receive from him exactly what he takes from us1--an enlargement of our social world1 the creation of another social bond4 ,if we cannot hear his story from his own lips1 we want to hear it from some third person1 who will surely be glad to relate it1 since he1 as bearer of the news1 will bring to himself something of the glory of the hero4 ,there is malice enough in gossip1 but most of it is the purest kind of mental and emotional satisfaction4 ,our interest in it is of exactly the same kind as our interest in novels and romances4 ,the stories which we tell about ourselves and our friends make up the ephemeral1 yet real prose literature of daily life4 ,most stories probably had their origin in more or less literal transcriptions from real life4 ,history is the basis of literature4 ,however1 as stories are passed from one person to another1 fiction encroaches upon fact4 ,details are forgotten and have to be filled out from the imagination2 then a sheer delight in invention enters in2 it is so interesting to see if you can make a world as good as the real one1 or even outdo it in strangeness and wonder1 provided1 of course1 you can still get yourself believed4 ,even in the relation of real events1 creation inevitably plays a part2 the whole of any story is not worth telling2 there must be selection1 emphasis upon the most striking particulars1 and synthesis4 ,besides the opportunity which it gives of unhampered control over the story1 fiction has still other advantages4 ,the interest which we take in tales of real life is bound up with personal appeals4 ,this is most racy in gossip1 but something of the kind lingers in all narratives of fact4 ,literature can become disinterested and universal in its appeal only when1 keeping the semblance of life1 it becomes a work of pure imagination4 ,it is then1 as ,aristotle said1 more philosophical1 that is1 more universal and typical1 than history4 ,another advantage of fiction as compared with history is its completeness4 ,the knowledge which we possess of the lives of others is the veriest fragment4 ,we know1 of course1 our own lives best2 but even of these1 unless we are at the end of our years1 we do not know the outcome4 ,we know next well the life of an intimate--wife1 child1 sweetheart1 friend--yet not all of that2 there is much he will not tell us and much else which we cannot observe2 for even he dwells with us for a brief time only1 and then is gone4 ,of other people1 we can know still less2 we can observe something1 we can get more from hearsay2 but that is a chaos of impressions2 the larger part is inference and construction1 a work of the imagination1 which may or may not be true4 ,even the biography1 carefully made from all available data in the way of personal recollections1 letters1 and diaries1 although it may approach to wholeness1 remains1 nevertheless1 very largely a construction1 a work of literary fiction4 ,the autobiography comes still closer2 yet1 since it is designed for a public which cannot be expected to view it in a solidly detached fashion1 it suffers from the reticence which inevitably intrudes to suppress4 ,in fiction alone1 none except artistic motives need intervene to bid silence4 ,however1 although fiction be a purely ideal world of imagined life1 it is essentially the same as the real social world4 ,for that world is also imaginary4 ,we have direct experience of our own lives alone2 the lives of others can exist for us only in our thought about them4 ,to be sure1 our daily contact with the bodies of our friends and associates gives to this thought something of the pungency of self-knowledge2 yet in absence1 they live for us1 as the characters in a novel1 only in our thought4 ,and the majority of the people1 personally unknown to us1 who make up our larger social world--and for most of us this includes the great ones who are such potent factors in determining it--are real to us in the same way that ,diana or ,esmond are real4 ,all historical figures belong to this world of imagination4 ,our friends too1 as they pass out of our lives or die1 and we ourselves eventually1 will sink into it4 ,our interest in the fictional world of the writer is1 moreover1 essentially the same as our interest in the real world4 ,its persons arouse in us the same emotions of admiration1 love1 or dislike4 ,they satisfy the same need for social stimulation1 the same curiosity about life4 ,just as we have certain instincts and habits of movement that make us restless when they are not satisfied1 and afford us a wild joy in walking and running when we are released from confinement1 so we have certain instincts and habits of feeling towards persons which demand objects and produce joy when companions are found4 ,an unsatisfied or superabundant sociability lies back of our love of fiction4 ,we read because we are lonely or because our fellow men have become trite and fail to stimulate us sufficiently4 ,if our fellows were not so reticent1 if they would talk to us and tell us their stories with the freedom and the brightness of a ,stevenson1 or if their lives were so fresh and vivid that we never found them dull1 perhaps we should not read at all4 ,but1 as it is1 we can satisfy our craving for knowledge of life only by extending our social world through fiction4 ,fiction may teach us1 edify us1 make us better men--it may serve all these purposes incidentally1 but its prime purpose as art is to provide us with new objects for social feeling and knowledge4 ,the interest which we take in fictitious action is also like that which we take in real action4 ,the same emotions of desire for the attainment of a goal1 suspense1 hope1 fear1 excitement1 curiosity and its satisfaction1 joy1 despair1 are aroused4 ,and we have a need to experience these emotions at high pitch greater than our everyday lives can satisfy4 ,our lives are seldom adventurous all over2 there are monotonous interludes with no melody1 offering us little that is new to learn4 ,our love for war and sport shows that we were not built organically for humdrum4 ,now literature helps to make up for this deficiency in real life by providing us with adventures in which we can participate imaginatively1 and from which we can derive new knowledge4 ,if real life did supply us with all the intense living that we demand1 we might not care to read1 although the love of adventure grows by feeding1 and many an active man revels in tales which simulate his own exploits4 ,it follows that the novelist should imitate life1 yet at the same time raise its pitch4 ,the realists imitate life deliberately1 and we measure their worth by their truth1 but they select the intense moments4 ,the romancers and weavers of fairy tales1 on the other hand1 instead of choosing the vivid moments of real life1 in order to stimulate the emotions1 accomplish the same end by exciting wonder and amazement at the exaggerations and unheard-of novelties which they create4 ,yet even they give us truth1 not truth in the sense of fact1 but in the sense of a world which arouses the same elementary emotions1 intensified though they be through amazement1 as are aroused by fact4 ,it matters not how outlandish their tales so long as they do this4 ,love stories are so widely interesting because love is the one very vivid emotion in most people's lives1 although there are other experiences--warfare1 the pursuit of great aims1 the clash of purposes and beliefs1 the growth of souls--equally intense4 ,dante's three themes1 ,venus1 ,salus1 ,virtus1,footnote3 ,see his ,de ,vulgari ,eloquentia4 broadly interpreted1 cover the range of literary subjects4 ,of course1 since we secure no personal triumphs in reading1 and every one wishes to play his own part successfully in real life1 literature cannot become a substitute for life1 except with the artist who triumphs in making his story4 ,nevertheless1 as ,henry ,james says1 fiction may and should compete with life1 and this it can do by giving us the feelings aroused by action without imposing upon us the responsibilities and the fateful results of action itself2 there we can learn new things about life without incurring the risks of participation in it4 ,we can play the part of the adventurer without being involved in any blame2 we can fall in love with the heroine without any subsequential entanglements2 we can be a hero without suffering the penalties of heroism2 we can travel into foreign lands without deserting our business or emptying our purses4 ,hence1 although no one would exchange life for literature1 one is better content1 having literature1 to forego much of life4 ,the elements of every story are these five3 character1 incident1 nature1 fate1 and milieu--the social1 historical1 and intellectual background4 ,character and incident are capable of some degree of separation1 so far as1 in novels of adventure1 the personalities necessary to carry on the action may be very abstract or elementary1 and so far as1 in so-called psychological novels1 the number of events related may be very small and their interest dependent upon their effect on character2 but one without the other is as inconceivable in a story as it is in life itself1 and the development of fiction has been steadily in the direction of their interdependence4 ,aristotle's dictum regarding the superior importance of plot over character applies to the drama only1 and because character cannot well be revealed there except through action4 ,the construction of character depends upon the delineation of distinctive and recognizable physical traits1 a surprisingly small number sufficing1 a mere name being almost enough2 upon the definition of the individual's position in a group--his relation to family1 townspeople1 and other associates--a matter of capital importance2 and1 finally1 information about his more permanent interests and attitudes4 ,this construction is best made piecemeal1 the character disclosing itself gradually during the story1 as it does in life1 and growing under the stress of circumstances4 ,the old idea of fixity of character does not suit our modern notions of growth2 we demand that character be created by the story2 it should not preexist1 as ,schopenhauer thought it should1 with its nature as determinate and its reactions as predictable as those of a chemical substance4 ,and although in their broad outlines the possibilities of human nature are perhaps fewer in number than the chemical substances1 the variations of these types in their varying environments are infinite4 ,to create a poignant uniqueness while preserving the type is the supreme achievement of the writer of fiction4 ,we want as many of the details of character1 and no more1 as are necessary to this end4 ,by incident is meant action expressing character or action or event determining fate4 ,there are a thousand actions1 mechanical or habitual1 performed by us all1 which throw no light upon our individuality4 ,almost all of these the novelist may neglect1 or if he wishes to describe them1 a single example will serve to reveal whatever uniqueness they may hide4 ,there are an equal number of actions and events like blind alleys leading nowhere2 from these also the novelist abstracts2 it is only when he can trace some effect upon fate or character that he is interested4 ,the delineation of nature or the milieu is governed by the same reference3 a social or intellectual environment1 no matter how interesting in itself1 without potent individualities which it molds1 or scenery1 no matter how romantic1 unless it is a theater of action or a spiritual influence upon persons1 has no place in a story4 ,each of these1 however1 may by itself become the subject-matter of a literary essay1 provided the writer's own moods and appreciations are included2 otherwise it is a topic for sociology1 history1 or topography1 not for literature4 ,by fate in a story ,i mean the writer's feeling for causality4 ,as the maker of an image of life1 the writer must portray life as molded by its past and by all the circumstances surrounding it4 ,he must present character as determined by personal influence1 by nature and the milieu2 he must have a vivid sense for the interrelation of incidents4 ,the feeling for fate is independent of any special philosophical view of the world2 it does not imply fatalism or the denial of the spontaneous and originative force of personality2 it is simply recognition of the wholeness of life4 ,nor1 again1 does it imply the possibility of predicting the end of a story from the beginning1 for the living sequence1 forging its links as it proceeds1 is not mechanical2 but it does imply that after things have happened we must be able to perceive their relatedness--the beginning1 middle1 and end as one whole4 ,in the story1 there must be the same kind of combination of necessity and contingency that there is in life3 we must be sure that every act and incident will have its effect1 and we must be able to divine1 in a general way1 what that effect will be2 but owing to the complexity of life1 which prevents us from knowing all the data of its problems1 and owing to the spontaneity of its agents and the creative syntheses within its processes1 we must never be able to be certain just what the effect will be like2 our every calculation must be subject to the correction of surprise4 ,suspense and excitement must go hand in hand with a feeling for a developing inner necessity4 ,there is no story without both4 ,yet no formula for the amount of each can be devised4 ,the dependence of man upon nature makes inevitable the occurrence of what we call accidents1 violent breaks in the tissue of personal and social life1 unaccountable from the point of view of our human purposes4 ,by admitting the part played by the non-human background in determining fate1 the naturalistic school of writers have enlarged the vision of the novelist beyond the range of the tender-minded sentimentalist4 ,it is to be expected1 moreover1 that coincidences should occur1--the meeting of independent lines of causation with consequences fateful to each4 ,a careful investigation would disclose that most interesting careers have been largely determined by coincidences4 ,the only demand that we can make of the artist in this regard is that he do not give us so many of these that his work will seem unreal4 ,we must not feel that he is making the story in order to surprise us and thrill us--the purpose of melodrama2 the story should make itself4 ,hardy's ,the ,return of the ,native is an illustration of failure here2 the coincidences are so many that it seems magical1 the work of a capricious genius1 not of nature4 ,by fate in a story we do not mean1 of course1 the mere causal concatenation of events1 for some relation to a purposeful life is always implied4 ,but since this relation is a general condition applying to all art1 we shall consider it here only as it affects the unity of a story4 ,no rule can be laid down for the compass of a story2 it may cover a small incident1 as in many short stories1 or it may embrace the whole or the most significant part of a life4 ,the requirement that there be a beginning1 middle1 and end holds1 but does not enlighten us as to what constitutes an end4 ,death makes one natural end to a story1 since it makes an end to life itself2 but within the span of a life the parts are not so clearly defined4 ,yet despite the continuity and overlapping of the parts of life1 there are certain natural breaks and divisions1--the working out of a plan to fulfillment or disaster1 the termination or consummation of a love affair1 the commission of a crime with its consequences1 or more subtle things1 such as the breaking up of an old attitude and the formation of a new one4 ,in life itself there are incidents that are closed because they cease to affect us deeply any more1 purposes which we abandon because we can get no farther with them or because they have found their natural fulfillment1 points of view which we have to relinquish because life supplies us with new facts which they do not include4 ,the unity of a story should mirror these natural unities4 ,the search for the wholeness of life should not blind us to the relative isolation of its parts2 and there is fate in the parts as well as in the whole4 ,the selection of incidents for their bearing upon fate1 the selection of significant traits for the construction of character1 with the resulting unity and simplicity of the parts and the whole1 is responsible for most of the ideality of fiction as compared with real life4 ,real life is a confused medley of impressions of people and events1 a mixture of the important and the unimportant1 the consequential and the inconsequential1 with no evident pattern4 ,of this1 literary art is the verklartes ,bild4 ,it is not because1 in literature1 men are happier and nobler that life seems superior there2 but because its outlines are sharper1 its design more perspicuous1 the motives that sway it better understood4 ,it has the advantage over life that a landscape flooded with sunshine has over one shrouded in darkness4 ,the way the literary artist builds up the ideal social world of fiction follows closely the method which we all employ in constructing the real social world4 ,in real life we start from certain perceived acts and utterances1 to which we then attach purposive meanings1 and between which we establish relations4 ,the process of interpretation is so rapid that1 although strictly inferential in character and having imagination as its seat1 it seems1 nevertheless1 like direct perception4 ,as we see people act and hear them talk1 it is as if we had a vision1 confused indeed1 yet direct1 of their inner lives4 ,and yet1 as we have insisted1 the real social world is constructed1 not perceived4 ,the literary artist1 unless he calls dramatic art to his aid1 cannot present the persons and acts of his story2 he can only describe them and report their talk4 ,description must take the place of vision1 a recorded conversation the place of a heard one4 ,yet1 by these means1 the artist can give us almost as direct an intuition as we get from life itself2 he can make us seem to see and overhear4 ,from the acts which he describes we can infer the motives of the characters1 and from the reported conversations we can learn their opinions and dreams4 ,or the novelist may insert a letter which we can read as if it were real4 ,the resulting image of life will be clearer than any we could construct for ourselves2 for the artist can report life more carefully than we could observe it2 and he can make his characters more articulate in the expression of themselves than ordinary men1 giving them a gift of tongues like his own4 ,this last is especially characteristic of the drama1 where sometimes1 as in ,shakespeare1 men speak more like gods than like men4 ,and we can listen to the intimate conversation of friends and lovers1 upon which1 in real life1 we would not intrude4 ,this direct method of exposition through the description of acts and events and the record of conversations is the basis of every vivid story4 ,it leaves the necessary inferences to the reader1 just as life leaves them to the observer4 ,in the hands of a master like ,fontane1 this method is incomparable2 nothing can supplant it4 ,it is the only method available for the dramatist1 who1 however1 can make it still more effective through histrionic portrayal4 ,yet it does not suffice to satisfy our craving for knowledge of life1 for only the broader1 more obvious feelings can be inferred from the acts of men2 the subtler and more remote escape4 ,even in conversation these cannot all be revealed2 for many of them are too intimate to be spoken1 and many again are unknown even to those who hold them4 ,to-day we ask of the novelist that he disclose the finest1 most hidden tissues of the soul4 ,to this end1 the microscopy of analysis1 the so-called psychological method1 must be employed4 ,the novelist must perform upon his characters the same sort of dissection that we perform when1 introspecting1 we seek out the obscurer grounds of our conduct4 ,and in the pursuit of this knowledge the novelist can oftentimes do better with his characters than we can do with ourselves4 ,for utter sincerity regarding ourselves is impossible2 the desire to think well of ourselves prevents us from recognizing the truth about ourselves4 ,the novelist1 on the contrary1 can be unprejudiced and can know fully what he himself is creating4 ,in order to accomplish this same purpose1 the dramatist has to introduce bits of self-analysis1 unusually sincere and penetrating1 spoken aloud1--in the old style1 monologues4 ,and yet1 without sacrificing the truthfulness of his own art1 he cannot go so deep here as the novelist4 ,through his analysis of his characters1 the novelist must1 however1 construct them2 otherwise he is a psychologist1 not an artist4 ,a synthetic vision of personality must supervene upon the dissection1 and the emotional interest in character and action must subsist alongside of the intellectual interest4 ,he must not let us lose the vivid sense of a living presence4 ,in order to keep this1 he must continue to employ the direct method of description of person and action1 and report of conversation4 ,how far the analytic method may be carried and at the same time the sense of personality kept intact1 may be inferred from the work of ,henry ,james1 who1 nevertheless1 seems at times to fail to bring the out-going threads of his thought back into the web which he is weaving4 ,again1 in order to reach the social1 historical1 and metaphysical background of life--the milieu1 the method of thought is the only available one4 ,for the milieu is not anything that can be seen or heard or touched2 it does not manifest itself to perception1 but has to be constructed by a process of inference and synthesis4 ,much of it1 to be sure1 can be divined from the acts and conversations1 from the dress and manners of the characters1 but there is always more that has to be directly expounded4 ,the writer cannot rely upon the reader's perspicacity to make the right inferences1 or upon his knowledge to supply sufficient data2 nor can he make his characters tell all that he may want told about their past and the life of the world in which they live1 and through the influence of which they have become what they are4 ,the novelist must construct for the reader the mise en scene of his story4 ,yet this must be held in complete subordination to the story4 ,the intellectual background must lie behind1 not athwart the story2 it must be created for the sake of the story1 not the story for its sake4 ,a philosophy of life1 even1 is the inevitable presupposition of every story4 ,for no writer1 no matter how direct and empirical he may be in his methods1 can escape from looking at life through the glass of certain political1 social1 and religious ideas4 ,he may have none of his own construction1 yet he will unconsciously share those of his age4 ,the prose literature of our own age1 aside from some minor differences of technique1 differs from that of the past chiefly through its more democratic and naturalistic views of life4 ,and just as we rightly ask of the novelist that he enlighten us regarding the subtler causation of human action1 so with equal right we may ask him to exhibit the relations of the persons and incidents which he describes to social organization1 spiritual movements1 and nature2 for only so can they be seen in their complete reality4 ,yet right here lurks a danger threatening the enduring beauty of every story thus made complete4 ,for the social and cosmic background of life1 as we have observed1 can be constructed only through thought1 and thought1 particularly regarding such matters1 is peculiarly liable to error4 ,the artist who goes very deep into this is sure to make mistakes4 ,even when he tries to use the latest sociological1 economic1 and political theories1 he runs great risks2 for these theories are always one-sided and subject to correction2 they never prove themselves to be what the artist thinks and wants them to be--concrete views which he can apply with utter faith4 ,how many stories of the century past have been marred by the author's too ready application of ,darwinism to social life6 ,when we can separate the story from its intellectual background1 the inadequacy of the latter matters little2 for we can apply metaphysical and political criticism to the theory and enjoy the story aesthetically2 but many of our writers come to life with preconceived ideas deeply affecting their delineation of it4 ,the picture no longer seems true because we feel that a false theory has prevented the artist from viewing life concretely and clearly4 ,we could1 for example1 accept as natural and inevitable the ending of ,tess of the ,d',urbervilles1 if ,hardy had not presented it as an illustration of the cruel sport of the gods4 ,as it stands with the author's commentary1 we suspect that the girl's fate might have been different1--that perhaps he gave it this turn in order to prove his theory of life4 ,this fault is especially flagrant in the theory-ridden fiction of to-day4 ,determination through the past is overemphasized as against the influence of present1 novel factors in a growing experience2 heredity is given undue weight as against the inborn originality of personality and the uniqueness acquired through unique experiences2 the influence of sensual motives is stressed at the expense of the moral2 and so on through all the other abstractions and insufficiencies of scientific novel writing4 ,the writer may well profit by everything he can learn from science2 but he should not let his knowledge prevent him from seeing life concretely and as a whole4 ,the literary man's science and philosophy are bound to be condemned by the expert1 but his concrete delineations of life based on direct observation and vivid sympathy and imagination are impeccable4 ,his theories may be false1 but these will always be true4 ,nothing can take their place in fiction4 ,it is they which give enduring value to such tales as ,morte d',arthur1 despite all the crudity of the intellectual background4 ,reflections upon life may become matter for literature in the essay1 quite apart from any story4 ,but the essay1 like the story1 unless it is to compete at a disadvantage with science and philosophy1 must rely upon first-hand personal acquaintance with life1 and artistic expression4 ,the more abstract and theoretical it becomes1 the more precarious its worth4 ,i do not mean that the essayist may not generalize1 but his generalizations should be limited to the scope of his experience of life4 ,i do not mean that he should not philosophize1 but his philosophy should be1 like ,goethe's or ,emerson's1 an expression of intuition and faith4 ,properly1 the literary essay is a distinct artistic genre--the expression of a concrete thinking personality1 and its value consists in the living wisdom it contains4 ,such essays as those of a ,montaigne or a ,la ,rochefoucauld make excellent materials for the social sciences1 and can never be displaced by them as sources of knowledge of life4 ,considerations similar to those which we have adduced regarding the implied philosophy of a story apply to its moral purpose4 ,we cannot demand of the writer that he have no moral purpose or that he leave morality out of his story4 ,for1 since the artist is also a man1 he cannot rid himself of an ethical interest in human problems or with good conscience fail to use his art to help toward their solution4 ,his observations of moral experience will inevitably result in beliefs about it1 and these will reveal themselves in his work4 ,yet we should demand that his view of what life ought to be shall not falsify his representation of life as it is4 ,just as soon as the moral of a tale obtrudes1 we begin to suspect that the tale is false4 ,we have such suspicions about ,bourget1 for example1 because1 as in ,une ,divorce1 we are never left in doubt from the beginning as to the conventions he is advocating4 ,and along with the feeling for the reality of the story goes the feeling for the validity of the moral2 they stand and fall together4 ,a story's moral1 like life's moral1 is convincing in proportion as it is an inference from the facts4 ,the novelist1 fearing that we may not have the wits to discern it1 is justified in drawing this inference himself2 yet it must show itself to be strictly an inference from the story--the story must not seem to have been constructed to prove it4 ,die ,weltgeschichte ist das ,weltgericht1 wrote ,schiller2 even so1 the delineation of life is the criticism of life4 ,to show the scope of disillusion1 monotony1 repression--life's generous impulses narrowed and made timid by the social1 economic1 and political machine--would be a criticism of our modern world2 there would be no need of moralizing4 ,this the ,russian novelists seem to have understood2 they judged ,russian life by describing it4 ,the man who writes literature as a means for promulgating political or moral ideas is either a conservative who desires to return to the conventions of the past1 or else a radical who seeks the establishment of a new mode of life4 ,the method employed by the former usually consists in exposing the restlessness and unhappiness of people who live in accordance with advanced ideas in comparison with the contentment of those who follow the older traditions4 ,such stories are1 however1 inconclusive1 because they imply the false sociological thesis that the remedy for present ills is a return to the customs of the past4 ,happiness can indeed exist only in a stable society2 but each age must create its own order to suit its changing needs2 it cannot1 if it would1 go back to the old4 ,these stories1 therefore1 although they often contain truthful and valuable pictures of the ills of contemporary life1 and are useful in helping to conserve what is good in the spirit of the past1 are nevertheless bound to be futile in their main endeavor4 ,the method of the radical usually consists of two parts3 one of criticism1 designed to show the misery due to existing laws and institutions2 another of construction1 the disclosure of a new and better system4 ,but here1 too1 the constructive part of the story is likely to be weak4 ,for whether the writer sets forth his program by putting it into the mouth of one of his characters or appends it as a commentary to his story1 the practicability of his scheme is always open to question4 ,it is only through trial that any scheme can be shown to be workable4 ,there is1 however1 a new method that deserves better the name of experimental romance than ,zola's own works4 ,it consists in portraying people living in accordance with new sentiments and ideals1 or even under new institutions imaginatively constructed4 ,yet this method also has its weakness1 for it is difficult to make people believe in the reality of a life that has not been actually lived4 ,still1 this difficulty is not fatal2 for experiments in living are constantly being made all around us1 which the discerning novelist needs only to observe and report4 ,he can show the success of these or how1 if they fail1 their failure is due1 not to anything inherently vicious1 but simply to adverse law and opinion4 ,life is full of such stories waiting for some novelist who is not too timid to tell them4 ,we are thus brought round again to the thesis that the enduringly valuable elements of every story are its concrete creations of life4 ,in the end1 the story teller's fame will rest upon his power to create and reveal character and upon his sense for fate4 ,there is just one thing that should be added to this--a rich emotional attitude toward life4 ,it is the greater wealth of this that makes a novelist like ,thackeray or ,anatole ,france superior to one like ,balzac4 ,the personality that tells the story is as much a part of the total work as the characters and events portrayed1 and must be taken into account in any final judgment of the whole4 ,without the author's vivid and rich participation1 we who read can never be fully engaged1 and we shall find more of life in the story1 the more there is of him in it4 ,,chapter ,,xi ,,the ,,dominion ,,of ,,art ,,over ,,nature3 ,,painting ,in literature1 as we observed in our last two chapters1 nature does not find aesthetic expression on its own account4 ,in the lyric1 nature appears only as the reflection of personal moods and thoughts1 in the drama and novel and epic only as the theater of human action or the determiner of human fate4 ,in painting and sculpture1 on the other hand1 the expression of nature is the primary aim4 ,of course1 in so far as this expression is aesthetic1 it is an expression not of nature alone1 but of our responses as well2 but nature is the starting point1 not emotion as in lyric poetry1 nor the effect upon destiny as in the epic4 ,because they are expressions of nature1 and because the copying of the human body1 of trees1 clouds1 and the like is an indispensable part of their practice1 painting and sculpture have seemed to give support to the theory of art as imitation4 ,yet1 although the activity of imitation is a means to the creation of picture and statue1 the mere fact of being a copy is not the purpose of the completed work nor the ground of our pleasure in it4 ,not its relation to anything outside itself1 no matter how important for its making1 but its own intrinsic qualities constitute its aesthetic worth4 ,this was true of the earliest efforts in these arts4 ,the primitive artist copied not for the sake of copying1 but because he ascribed a magical power to images4 ,in the image he believed he somehow possessed the object itself1 and so could control it2 to the image1 therefore1 was transferred all the value and potence of the object4 ,the object represented was deeply significant2 it was perhaps the animal upon which the tribe depended for its food1 its totem or guardian divinity2 or else1 as among the ,egyptians1 it was the man himself1 of whom the image was meant to be an enduring habitation for the soul4 ,if primitive men had copied indifferent objects1 then we might infer that the mere making of an image was the end in view2 but this they did not do1 and it has never been the practice of any vigorous group of artists4 ,only when the means are valued instead of the end--technique in place of beauty--does this occur4 ,through such a mistaking of aims1 new instruments of expression may be discovered1 useful for a future genius1 but no genuine art is produced4 ,the genuine artist copies1 not for the sake of copying1 but in order to create a work of independent beauty4 ,this same transference of value to the image1 with the consequent freeing of the image from the model1 can be observed even in commemorative art4 ,a king desires1 perhaps1 to perpetuate his memory2 how better than through some enduring likeness in stone or paint8 ,while he is alive and after his death this image will remind his subjects of him and his valorous deeds4 ,the relation to the model seems to be fundamental2 but in proportion to the success of the artist in making a likeness1 the stone or paint will be made to seem all alive1 and for those who cannot come into direct relations with the monarch1 he will be effectively present in the statue or picture1 even when1 through death1 he is removed from all social and practical relations4 ,who does not feel that ,philip the ,fourth is present on the ,velasquez canvas2 where else could one find him so alive8 ,if the work is artistic1 the spectator's interest will center in feeling the life in the color and line or sculptured form2 that it happens to be an imitation of something else will become of secondary importance4 ,this is clearest when the name of the subject is not known2 then surely it is the life before us that can alone concern us4 ,any feeble copy would serve as a reminder1 but a living drawing or statue brings the man or woman into our presence4 ,the aesthetic interest in the work as living supervenes upon the interest in it as a mere reminder of life4 ,this freedom from the model and attainment of intrinsic worth in the work of art itself is furthered through the realization of beauty in the medium of expression4 ,the colors1 lines1 and shapes which the artist uses have a direct appeal to the eye and through the eye to feeling2 hence arise preferences for the most agreeable and expressive4 ,the artist discovered that he could express his emotion not only through representing its object1 but through the very colors or lines or shapes used in the delineation4 ,these effects1 found by chance perhaps in the first instance1 would later be striven for consciously4 ,in this way1 through some grace of line1 or symmetry of form1 or harmony of color1 the statue or picture would acquire a power to please quite independent of any ulterior use or purpose2 once more1 it would become alive and of value on its own account4 ,we shall begin our study of the representative arts with drawing and painting--representation in two dimensions--not because they preceded sculpture historically1 but because1 being more complex arts1 a solution of the problems which they raise makes a subsequent survey of the similar problems of the simpler art relatively easy4 ,the media of pictorial expression are color and line1 and expression is attained through them in a twofold fashion4 ,in a picture1 every element of color or line is expressive directly1 just as color and line1 of some vague feeling or mood1 and1 in addition1 chiefly through its resemblance1 represents some action or object4 ,the former kind of expression is indispensable4 ,no matter how realistic the imitation1 unless the picture thrill like music1 through its mere colors or lines1 it is aesthetically relatively ineffective4 ,it is not sufficient that the picture move us through the vicarious presence on the canvas of a moving object2 it must stir us in a more immediate fashion through the direct appeal of sense4 ,for example1 a picture which presents us with a semblance of the sea will hold us through the power which the sea has over us2 but it will not hold us so fast as a picture of the same subject which1 in addition1 grips us through its greens and blues and wavy lines4 ,the one sways us only through the imagination1 the other through our senses as well4 ,sensitiveness to color as such1 so self-evident to one who possesses it1 seems to be wanting1 except in rudimentary fashion1 in a great many people4 ,they are probably few1 however1 who do not feel some stirrings when they look through the stained glass of a cathedral window or upon the red of ,venetian glass1 or who are entirely indifferent to the color of silk4 ,the reason for emotional color-blindness is probably not a native incapacity to be affected1 but rather a diversion of attention2 color has come to be only a sign for the recognition and subsequent use of things1 a signal for a practical or intellectual reaction4 ,in our haste to recognize and use we fail to see1 and give ourselves no time to be moved by mere seeing4 ,but when1 as in art1 contemplation1 the filling of the mind with the object1 is the aim1 the power to move of the sensuous surface of things may come again into its rights4 ,the emotional response to color1 vague and abstract and objectless1 is1 like music1 incapable of adequate expression in words1 and for the same reason4 ,words are capable of expressing only the larger and fairly well-defined emotions2 such subtle shadings and complex mixtures of feeling as are conveyed by color and sound are mostly beyond their ken4 ,colors make us feel and dream as music does in the same incommunicable fashion4 ,or rather the only possibility of communicating them is through the color schemes arousing them4 ,and for one who appreciates color this is sufficient2 he can point to the colors and say--that is what ,i feel4 ,to render his feeling also in words would be a superfluous business1 supposing they could be adequate to express it2 or1 if they were adequate1 that would make expression through color superfluous4 ,the value of any medium consists in its power to express what none other can4 ,nevertheless1 it is possible to find rough verbal equivalents for the simpler colors4 ,thus every one would probably agree with ,lipps and call a pure yellow happy1 a deep blue quiet and earnest1 red passionate1 violet wistful2 would perhaps feel that orange partakes at once of the happiness of yellow and the passion of red1 while green partakes of the happiness of yellow and the quiet of blue2 and in general that the brighter and warmer tones are joyful and exciting1 the darker and colder1 more inward and restful4 ,to explain the expressiveness of color sensations is as difficult as to account for the parallel phenomenon in sounds4 ,here as there resort is had to the principle of association4 ,colors get1 it is thought1 their value for feeling either through some connection with emotionally toned objects1 like vegetation1 light1 the sky1 blood1 darkness1 and fire1 or else through some relation to emotional situations1 like mourning or danger1 which they have come to symbolize4 ,and there is little doubt that such associations play a part in determining the emotional meaning of colors--the reticence and distance of blue1 the happiness of yellow1 for example1 are partly explained through the fact that blue is the color of the sky1 yellow the color of sunlight2 the meaning of black is due1 partly at any rate1 to association with mourning4 ,yet neither of these types of association seems sufficient to explain the full emotional meaning of colors4 ,the conventional meanings of colors seem rather themselves to need explanation than to serve as explanations--why is red the sign of danger1 purple royal1 white a symbol of purity1 black a symbol of mourning8 ,is it not because these colors had some native1 original expressiveness which fashion and habit have only made more definite and turned to special uses8 ,and if we can explain the reticence of blue through association with the sky1 can we thus explain its quietness8 ,can the warmth of fire and the excitement of blood explain quite all the depth of passionate feeling in red8 ,the factors enumerated play a part in the complex effect1 but there seem to be elements still unaccounted for4 ,in order to explain the total phenomenon we must admit1 as in the case of tones1 some direct effect of the sensory light stimulus upon the feelings4 ,rays of light affect not only the sensory apparatus1 causing sensations of color2 their influence is prolonged into the motor channels1 causing a total attitude of the organism1 the correlate of a feeling4 ,it would be strange if any sensory stimulus were entirely cut off by itself and did not find its way into the motor stream4 ,but these overflows are too diffuse to be noticed in ordinary experience2 they are obscured through association or are not given time to rise to the level of clear consciousness1 because we are preoccupied with the practical or cognitive significance of the colors2 only in the quiet and isolation of contemplation can they come into the focus4 ,of course the student of the evolution of mind will want to go behind these color emotions and inquire why a given color is connected with a given reaction4 ,he may even want to connect them with instinctive responses of primitive men4 ,but here we can only speculate2 we cannot know4 ,the problem is further complicated through the fact that private color- associations are formed obscuring the aesthetic meanings1 which can be rediscovered only through the elimination of the former4 ,color preferences are often determined in this way2 yet sometimes they spring from another and more radical source--an affinity between personal temperament and the feeling tone of the preferred color4 ,a consistent choice of blues and grays indicates a specific kind of man or woman1 very different from the chooser of yellows and reds4 ,although single color tones are expressive1 they seldom exist alone in works of art4 ,significant expression requires variety4 ,the invention of original and expressive color combinations is a rare gift of genius4 ,rough rules of color combination have been devised from the practice of artists and from experiment1 the following of which will enable one to produce faultless patterns1 but without genius will never enable one to create a new expression4 ,color combinations are either harmonious or balanced1 the former produced by colors or tones of colors very close to one another1 the latter by the contrasting or widely sundered4 ,in the one case1 we get the quiet commingling of feelings akin to each other2 in the other1 the lively tension of feelings opposed4 ,compare1 for example1 the effect of a ,whistler nocturne with a ,monet landscape4 ,the colors that do not go well together are such as are not close enough for union nor far enough apart for contrast4 ,they are like personalities not sufficiently at one to lose themselves in each other1 yet not sufficiently unlike to be mutually stimulating and enlarging1 between whom there can be only a fruitless rivalry turning into hate4 ,such are certain purples and reds1 certain greens and blues4 ,yet1 through proper mediation1 any two colors can be brought into a composition4 ,all colors are brought together in nature through the sunlight1 and in painting or weaving by giving to rival colors the same sheen or brightness4 ,or again1 the union may be effected by combining the two with a third which is in a relation of balance or harmony with each1 as in the favorite scheme of blue1 red1 and green4 ,despite their ability to express1 colors cannot stand alone2 they must be the colors of something1 they must make line or shape4 ,lines1 on the other hand1 seem to be independent of color1 as in drawings and etchings2 yet there is really some color even there--black and white and tones of gray4 ,that color and line are independent of one another in beauty1 is1 however1 shown by works1 such as ,millet's1 which are good in line but poor in color4 ,lines have1 as we have already seen1 the same duality of function as colors3 they express feeling directly through their character as mere lines and they represent objects by suggesting them through resemblance4 ,there is1 in fact1 for those who can feel it1 a life in lines of the same abstract and objectless sort as exists in colors and tones4 ,lines give rise to motor impulses and make one feel and dream1 as music does4 ,there are many who are cold to this effect2 yet few can fail to get something of the vibration or mood of the lines of a ,greek vase painting1 a ,botticelli canvas1 or a ,rembrandt etching4 ,the life of lines is more allied to that of tones than of colors because it possesses a dynamic movement quality which is absent from the latter4 ,this life is1 in fact1 twofold3 on the one hand it is a career1 with a beginning1 middle1 and end1 something to be willed or enacted2 on the other hand it is a temperament or character1 a property of the line as a whole1 to be felt4 ,these two aspects of aesthetic lines are closely related2 they stand to one another much as the temperament or character of a man stands to his life history1 of which it is at once the cause and the result4 ,just as we get a total impression of a man's nature by following the story of his life1 so we get the temperamental quality of lines by following them with the eye2 and just as all of our knowledge of a man's acts enters into our intuition of his nature1 so we discover the character of the total line by a synthesis of its successive elements4 ,it is as difficult1 more difficult1 perhaps1 to put into words the temperamental quality of lines as to do the parallel thing with colors4 ,lines are infinite in their possible variations1 and the fine shades of feeling which they may express exceed the number of words in the emotional vocabulary of any language4 ,moreover1 in any drawing1 the character of each line is partly determined through the context of other lines2 you cannot take it abstractly with entire truth4 ,it is1 however1 possible to find verbal equivalents for the character of the main types of lines4 ,horizontal lines convey a feeling of repose1 of quiet1 as in the wall-paintings of ,puvis de ,chavannes2 vertical lines1 of solemnity1 dignity1 aspiration1 as in so much of the work of ,boecklin2 crooked lines of conflict and activity1 as in the woodcuts of ,durer2 while curved lines have always been recognized as soft and voluptuous and tender1 as in ,correggio and ,renoir4 ,the supposition that the curved line is the sole line of beauty is the result of a narrow and effeminate idea of the aesthetic2 yet it must be admitted that this form1 since it permits of the greatest amount of variation1 has the highest power of expression2 but in many of its more complex varieties it loses much of its soft feminine quality1 and takes on some of the strength of the other forms4 ,the expressiveness of lines is determined by several--at least three-- factors4 ,in the first place1 the perception of lines is an active process4 ,in order to get a line we have to follow it with the eye2 and if we do not now follow it with our fingers1 we at least followed similar lines thus in the past4 ,now this process of the perception of a line requires of us an energy of attention to the successive elements of the line as we pass over them and a further expenditure of energy in remembering and synthesizing them into a whole4 ,this energy1 since it is evoked by the line and is not connected with any definite inner striving of the self1 is felt by us to belong to the line1 to be an element in its life1 as clearly its own as its shape4 ,for example1 a line with many sudden turns or changes of direction is an energetic and exciting line because it demands in perception a constant and difficult and shifting attention2 a straight line1 on the contrary1 because simple and unvarying in its demands upon the attention1 is monotonous and reposeful2 while the curved line1 with its lawful and continuous changes1 at once stimulating yet never distracting attention1 possesses the character of progressive and happy action4 ,this1 the primary source of the vital interpretation of lines is supplemented by elements derived from association4 ,lines suggest to us the movements of our bodies along paths of similar form1 and we interpret them according to the feeling of these movements2 in the imagination1 we may seem to move along the very lines themselves as paths4 ,every skater or runner knows the difficulty of moving along a path full of sudden turns and angles1 a difficulty which1 if he is in good trim1 may nevertheless afford him pleasure in the overcoming2 the delightful and various ease of moving along curved lines2 the monotony of a long1 straight path1 but the quick triumph of going right to the end along a short and terminal line of this character4 ,but lines suggest to us not only the movements1 but also the attitudes of our bodies4 ,they may be straight and rising1--rigid or dignified or joyously expanding2 they may be horizontal and lie down and rest2 they may be falling and sorrowful2 or the shapes whose outlines they form may be heavy or light1 delicate or ungainly or graceful1 as bodies are4 ,finally1 the interpretation of lines may be further enriched as follows3 ,the sight of a line suggests the drawing of it1 the sweep of the brush that made it2 we ourselves1 in the imagination once more1 may re-create the line after the artist1 and feel1 just as he must have felt1 the mastery1 ease1 vigor1 or delicacy of the execution into the line itself4 ,few can fail to get this effect from the paintings of ,franz ,hals1 for example1 where the abounding energy of the artist is apparent in each stroke of the brush4 ,artists feel this life in execution most strongly2 yet1 since almost every one has had some practice in drawing lines1 it is potentially a universal quality in a painting4 ,lines may be unified according to the three modes of harmony1 balance1 and evolution4 ,the repetition of the same kind of line confers a harmonious unification upon a drawing1 as in ,tintoretto's ,bacchus and ,ariadne1 where the circle is to be found repeated in the crown and ring1 in the heads of the three figures1 in the breasts of ,ariadne4 ,similar to this sameness of form is sameness of direction or parallelism of lines4 ,another kind of harmonious unification of lines is continuity1 where out of different lines or shapes a single line is made4 ,the classical geometrical forms of composition1 as the circular or pyramidal1 are good examples of this4 ,the ,odalisque of ,ingres1 where all the lines of the body constitute a single line1 is a notable case4 ,what ,ruskin has called the approach1 intersection1 interweaving of lines1 like the sea waves on the shore1--the conspiracy of all the lines in a drawing to form one single network1 of which illustrations could be found in the work of every draftsman1 is a kind of harmony of line4 ,symmetrically disposed shapes1 and lines whose directions are opposed1 have the balanced form of unity4 ,here1 from a given point as center1 the attention is drawn in contrary yet equal ways4 ,examples of this type of composition are abundant among the ,old ,masters2 as a rigid form it is1 however1 disappearing4 ,that the dramatic type of unity is to be found in lines will be confirmed by every one who has observed the movement1 the career of lines4 ,whenever shapes are so disposed that they form a line leading up to a given shape1 wherever1 again1 lines converge to a single point1 there is a clear case of evolution2 we begin by attending to the line at a certain point1 proceed in a certain direction1 then reach a terminal point1 the goal of the process4 ,in ,leonardo's ,last ,supper1 the convergence of the perspective lines and the lines formed by the groups of ,apostles is a case of evolution4 ,the different types of unification are1 of course1 not exclusive4 ,in the painting just referred to1 all three are present3 ,christ and the ,apostles are arranged along a single line1 the two ends of which1 despite their symmetrical and balanced disposition1 converge to one central point1 the ,christ4 ,every pyramidal form of composition is a combination of balance between the elements at the bases of the triangle1 convergence towards the apex1 and harmony through the participation of the three elements in a single form4 ,one of the most interesting and complex types of organization of lines is rhythm--the balanced1 harmonious movement of lines4 ,a line is rhythmical when there is a balanced alternation of direction in its movement1 a turning now to the right and now to the left1 or vice versa2 proportion in the length of the segments made by the turns2 and general direction--a tending somewhere4 ,as is assumed in the preceding paragraph1 the elements of lines may be shapes or masses1 as well as points4 ,that is1 not only do lines made up of points form shapes1 but shapes in their turn1 when arranged on a surface1 necessarily make lines4 ,such lines are1 as a rule1 not continuous2 yet since the eye takes the shapes successively and in a given direction1 they are nevertheless true lines and possess the qualities of ordinary simple lines4 ,the arrangement of masses in an undulating line1 say in a landscape painting1 has essentially the same value for feeling as a similar continuous line2 compare this with a horizontal arrangement of masses1 which has all the quiet and repose of a simple horizontal line4 ,colors and lines1 relying on the direct expressiveness which we have been studying1 may stand by themselves1 as in an oriental rug2 yet in painting they have another function3 to represent4 ,and even in the purely ornamental use of color and line1 the tendency towards representation is apparent everywhere2 either the lines are derivatives of schematized pictures of men and plants and animals1 or else such objects are introduced as motives without disguise4 ,in painting1 therefore1 the color red has value not only as so much red1 but as standing for the red of a girl's lips or cheeks2 and that curved line is of significance1 not as mere line alone1 but as the curve of her limbs4 ,in this way the native value of the sense symbols becomes suffused and enriched with the values of the things they represent4 ,the two functions of color and of line should never be indifferent to each other2 representation should not become a mere excuse for decoration1 the objects represented having no value in themselves2 nor should color and line be used as mere signs of interesting objects1 without reference to their intrinsic value4 ,on the contrary1 the two functions should play into each other's hands4 ,if1 for example1 the human body is represented1 the colors and lines employed should be so disposed that they decorate the surface of the picture and hold us there through their sheer rhythm and quality2 yet1 at the same time1 and through their very ornamental power1 they should make us feel the more keenly the values of the object they represent4 ,between the immediate values of the colors and lines there should exist unity3 stimulating colors should go with stimulating lines1 quiet colors with quiet lines2 and the resulting feeling tone of the medium should be in harmony with the feeling of the objects represented2 the one should give the other over again1 and so each enforce the other4 ,since it is not the purpose of any art to represent mere things1 but to express concrete states of the soul1 the center of which is always some feeling1 exact fidelity in the representation of objects is not necessary for good painting or drawing4 ,only so much of things needs to be represented as is necessary to give back the life of them4 ,necessary above all is the object as a whole1 for to this our feelings are attached2 now this can usually be far better represented through an impressionistic sketch1 which gives only the significant features1 than by a painstaking and detailed drawing4 ,since1 furthermore1 the life of things can be conveyed through color and line as such1 a certain departure from realism is legitimate for this end4 ,without some freedom from the exact truth of the colors and lines of things1 the artist is unable to choose and compose them for expressive purposes2 when exactly like the objects which they represent1 they tend to lose all expressive power of their own1 becoming mere signs or equivalents of things4 ,a certain amount of variation from the normal may be necessary in order that the sense symbols shall call attention to themselves1 in order that we be prevented1 as we are not in the ordinary observation of nature1 from looking through them to the things which they mean4 ,whenever1 moreover1 the artist wishes to render a unique reaction to a scene1 he can do so only through a courageous use of the subtle language of color and line1 which may require a distortion of the real local qualities of things2 for1 if he makes a plain1 realistic copy of the scene itself1 he can evoke1 and so express1 only the normal emotional responses to it4 ,when such departures from the truth of things are properly motivated1 no one can be offended by them1 any more than when the brilliant hues of nature appear black and white in a charcoal drawing4 ,the amount of realism in any work of art is largely a matter of tacit convention4 ,an artist may1 if he wishes1 use color with no pretense at giving back the real colors of objects1 but for purely expressive purposes alone1 relying on line for purposes of representation4 ,this is often done in ,japanese prints4 ,all that is necessary is that we should understand what the artist is doing and find what he presents to us real and alive4 ,on the other hand1 an expressive use of color and line leading to a distortion of objects out of all possibility of recognition1 or even a use which makes them seem unreal and awry1 is without excuse4 ,for since colors and lines are employed to bring things before the imagination1 they should be made to serve this purpose successfully2 the value which belongs to the things should have a chance to appear2 but this can happen only if they seem to be actually present before us4 ,painting is not a mere music of color and line expressive of abstract and objectless emotions alone1 but a poetry1 which1 through the picturing of objects to which emotions are attached1 renders the latter concrete and definite4 ,not mere feeling1 such as a color or a line by itself can convey1 but feeling in the presence of nature1 which can be expressed only when color and line are made into a recognizable image of nature1 is the substance of painting4 ,one cannot express the feeling of the weight and bulk of objects1 of their distribution in three dimensions1 or the value of their shadows or atmospheric enveloping1 without the representation of weight and bulk and shadow and atmosphere and perspective4 ,every increase in the power to represent nature1 every advance in the mastery of the object1 adds a new power over the expression of feeling1 which varies with the object4 ,the realist is1 therefore1 right in his demand that nature itself be painted2 only he should remember that the nature which presents itself in art is never the naked object1 but veiled in feeling2 and1 as so veiled1 may sometimes be seen pretty much as it really is2 then again with parts concealed1 and sometimes even transformed4 ,both a realism that tries to unite fidelity to the full qualities of the object with musical expression in the medium1 and so to render the more typical responses to nature1 which depend1 for the most part1 on the object itself1 and a symbolism or expressionism that sacrifices fidelity for the expression1 through the mere medium1 of more personal responses1 are in their rights4 ,only the limits of both tendencies are illegitimate--the use of color and line to produce mere images of things on the one hand1 or purely musical effects on the other4 ,the subject matter or content of painting is determined by its language1 color1 and line4 ,these1 as we have seen1 by an imitation more or less exact1 represent nature1 the world of concrete things as directly presented to us in vision1 colored and shapely4 ,the inner world is expressed only so far as it is revealed in the gestures and attitudes of the bodies of men or so far as it is a mood attached to things and their colors and shapes4 ,now space is the universal container in which all elements of the visible world are disposed4 ,every painting1 therefore1 should include a representation of space2 it should never represent things as if they stood alone without environment or relation4 ,even in the portrait of a single individual some relation to space should be indicated2 this is accomplished by the background1 in which the figures should be made to lie1 and to which they should seem to belong4 ,in front1 the space of a picture is limited by the plane of the surface on which it is painted2 everything should appear to belong in the space back of this2 nothing should seem to come forward out towards the spectator4 ,but behind this1 backwards1 the space represented is unlimited1 and its infinite depths may well be indicated by the convergence of perspective lines and the gradual fading of the outlines and colors of objects4 ,the represented space of the picture is not1 of course1 the real space of the canvas or of the room in which the picture hangs4 ,the former is infinite1 while the latter is only so many square feet in area4 ,the frame serves the purpose of cutting off the represented space from all relation to the real space1 of which the frame itself is a part4 ,a confusion of these two spaces is sometimes found in crude work and in the comments of people upon genuine works of art4 ,i have1 for example1 seen a picture of a lion with iron bars riveted to the frame and extending over it1--a represented lion in a real cage6 ,and ,i once heard a man criticise one of ,degas' paintings on the ground that if the dancing girl were to straighten her bent body she would bump her head on the frame6 ,the rule that the color of the frame should harmonize with the main tones of the picture is no proof that they belong together2 its purpose is merely to protect the colors of the painting from being changed through their neighborhood with those of the frame4 ,although painting is essentially a spatial art1 it includes a temporal element1 the specious present1 the single moment of action or of motion4 ,the lines are not dead and static1 but alive2 they progress and vibrate2 by their means a smile1 the rippling of a stream1 the gesture of surprise1 the movement of a dance1 may be depicted4 ,successive moments1 the different phases of an action or movement1 cannot1 however1 be represented4 ,strict unities of space and time should be observed in painting4 ,only contiguous parts of space and only one moment of time should be represented inside a single frame4 ,both these unities were violated in old religious paintings where sometimes the ,nativity1 ,flight into ,egypt1 ,crucifixion1 and ,resurrection were all portrayed on one canvas4 ,the space of painting is no abstract aspect of things such as the geometer elaborates4 ,to be in a common space with other things1 implies1 for the pictorial intuition of the world1 to be played upon by the same light and to be enveloped in the same atmosphere4 ,space1 light1 and air constitute the milieu in which everything lives and moves and has its being in painting4 ,to every difference in the arrangement and foreshortening of objects1 to every variation in their lights and shadows and aerial quality1 the sensitive soul responds4 ,the close proximity of objects in a tiny room has an effect upon feeling very different from their wide distribution over a broad space4 ,an equal difference depends upon whether light is concentrated upon objects or evenly distributed over them2 upon whether it is bright or dim2 upon whether they are near and clear in a thin air or far and hazy in a thick and heavy cloud4 ,the masters of light and air1 ,rembrandt1 ,claude1 ,turner1 evoke myriad moods through these subtle influences4 ,a long development and the following of many false paths was necessary before painting discovered its true function as an expression of the elements1 the once hard outlines of things softening in their enveloping embrace4 ,the representation of space1 which painting alone of all the arts can achieve1 does not imply1 however1 a representation of the full plastic quality of individual objects1 which is the function of sculpture4 ,this1 to be sure1 can be done in painting1 as the great sculptor-painters of the ,renaissance have shown2 but it cannot be done so well as in sculpture2 and when done tends to interfere with other things4 ,it makes objects stand out too much by themselves1 destroying their felt unity with other elements on the canvas1 so that when provided with all the colors of life1 they seem rather real than painted1 and look as if they wished to leave the world of representation1 where they belong1 and touch hands with the spectator4 ,the depth and the extent of space1 the distance and the distribution of objects1 light and shade and air1 are all independent of the plasticity of individual things1 which tends to disappear in proportion as they are emphasized4 ,only when attention is directed to the individual object does its full plasticity appear2 see it as an element of the environing whole1 and it flattens out to view4 ,there are1 in fact1 two ways of seeing1 to each of which corresponds a mode of painting4 ,on the one hand1 we may see distributively1 holding objects as individuals each in our attention1 neglecting light and space and air4 ,or else we may see synthetically1 first the whole which light and space and air compose1 and then individual things as bearers of these4 ,the one is the more practical way of seeing2 because1 for practical purposes1 the separate thing that can be grasped and used is all important1 and the film of light and air and the neighborhood of other things are of no account4 ,the other is more theoretical and sthetic2 for to a pure vision which does not think of handling1 there are no separate things1 but only differences of shape and color and location in a single object1 the visible whole4 ,footnote3 ,cf4 ,lipps1 ,aesthetik1 ,bd4 #b1 s4 #afe1 et seq4 ,in the type of painting corresponding to the first way of seeing1 objects are represented more as we think them to be1 or as we should find them on further exploration1 than as they actually appear to sight at any given moment2 the outlines are clear and sharp and detail is emphasized4 ,this mode of painting is most in place for interiors where there is an even distribution and no striking effects of light and shade1 as in so many genre pictures of the ,dutch school2 but above all when the human significance of objects or their dramatic relations1 which depend upon their being taken as separate things1 is to be expressed4 ,for example1 to get the expression of the action of a woman pouring water into a jug1 it is necessary that we feel the shape and color of the latter as aspects of a tangible reality having a distinct purpose1 that of holding water2 and this purposefulness makes of the object a separate1 individual thing4 ,yet a too great distinction of objects and a too great elaboration of detail1 as in ,meissonier and the ,english ,pre-,raphaelites1 is inartistic2 the picture breaks up into separate parts and all feeling of unity is lost4 ,in the work of the ,flemish and ,dutch1 on the contrary1 we take delight in the perspicuity of things without losing the sense of wholeness2 for there is a sameness and simplicity of color tone which unites them4 ,a genuine and unique sthetic value is possessed by such work1--that of clear intuition of the visual detail and human significance of things4 ,very often the unification in painting of this type is dramatic chiefly--some link of action or of symbolism which the elements of the picture have as meanings1 a unity of content1 therefore1 and not a coloristic or a linear unity4 ,the colors are essentially local colors1 serving first to characterize and distinguish the objects properly1 and then to lend to them severally high value through brightness and temperament2 although harmonizing as mere colors1 they are held together more through some connection in what they mean than through a unity of pure expression4 ,the dominance of any one mass1 too1 depends more upon its superior significance as meaning than upon its claim upon the attention through any intrinsic quality of color4 ,nevertheless1 even if secondary1 the unity and dominance through color and line must be present1 and should be consonant with the unity and subordination in the meanings4 ,the painting of the great ,italian masters was of this character4 ,in a ,madonna picture1 for example1 the elements representing the ,holy ,family are united through the spiritual oneness of the objects which they represent1 and the ,madonna is dominant through her superior significance for the religious life4 ,the colors serve to characterize and distinguish the figures2 yet between the former there is a harmony corresponding to the inner harmony of the latter2 the spiritual dominance of the ,madonna is expressed in a purely formal fashion through her larger size1 central position1 and more brightly gleaming garments4 ,in painting which corresponds to the synthetic way of seeing1 all particular objects are subordinated to space and light and air2 their outlines are melting1 suggested rather than seen1 and there is little emphasis on detail4 ,turner's painting of light and the more recent examples of impressionism afford abundant examples of this4 ,in this style1 unification is effected almost wholly through color and line as such1 and through the light and space and air which they represent4 ,just to live in the same atmosphere or in the path of the same light1 to be enveloped in the same darkness or shadow1 or merely to participate in a single composition of colors or rhythm of lines serves to unite objects4 ,the relative importance of elements1 too1 is determined rather by some intrinsic quality which arrests attention than by any supremacy as meanings4 ,through such materials and methods as we have described1 the possibilities and limits of expression in painting are determined4 ,first of all1 painting has the power1 through color and line as such1 to express the purely musical emotions2 this we demand of painting just as we demand music of verse3 without word-music1 there is no poetry1 no matter how high the theme2 so without color and line music1 no matter how skillful the representation or how noble the subject1 there is no picture4 ,painting may give little more than this4 ,in much of still-life painting1 for example1 the values attached to the objects represented are borrowed from the music of the medium4 ,and even when the objects represented have a value in themselves1 the superiority of their representation over the mere perception of them in nature comes from this source4 ,why1 for example1 does the painting of flowers by a real master afford a richer aesthetic experience than real flowers8 ,painted flowers have no perfume1 rightly called the soul of flowers4 ,it is because in painting the expressiveness of the purer and more subtly harmonious colors more than compensates for the lack of odor4 ,through the music of color and line we are made responsive to common things which otherwise would leave us cold1 or if we are responsive to them1 our sensitiveness becomes finer and keener4 ,it is largely because he is so accomplished a musician in color and composition that ,jan ,vermeer can make the inside of a room or some commonplace act by a commonplace person the object of an intense and sympathetic contemplation4 ,for the beauty of landscape also1 which the art of painting has created and which during the last century has become its favorite theme1 the music of color is equally essential4 ,in its highest form1 that beauty requires emotional responsiveness combined with the power accurately to observe and reproduce the qualities of things2 without observation and reproduction1 the feeling is incommunicable2 without feeling1 the imitation is lifeless4 ,love of the object1 which at once reveals and makes responsive1 mediates the highest achievements of the art4 ,by translating the object into the language of abstract color and line1 it is purified for feeling2 for those qualities toward which feeling is indifferent are eliminated2 only so much as can enter into an expressive color or line composition survives4 ,the artist gives us the illusion that he is reproducing our familiar world all the while that he is glorifying it through the beauty of the colors in which he paints it4 ,the painting of the human body1 especially the nude human body1 belongs to the same class of subjects as the painting of landscapes4 ,for the human body unclothed1 and as unclothed severed from the conventional social world1 is a part of nature and speaks to us as nature does through form and color4 ,to bring that object before us with all its expressive detail2 to make us1 in the imagination1 move with it and touch it2 to caress it with our eyes2 to awaken that passionate interest which makes us see and feel it more vividly than anything else in the world1 yet to subdue passion wholly to a glowing contemplation1 this is one of the highest achievements of pictorial art4 ,and the artistic right to represent it in the woods by lake or stream1 or in the meadow among other natural things1 must be accorded to the artist despite all protests of convention and habit2 we never actually find it there1 to be sure1 yet there it belongs for imaginative feelings4 ,the maidens in ,corot's paintings1 for example1 seem to belong as naturally to the landscape as the very trees themselves4 ,but the painter can depict the human body not merely as something sensuously beautiful1 but as expressive1 through gesture and pose and countenance1 of character and thought4 ,the complex psychic life of man is thus open to him for delineation4 ,in the portrait1 through the attentive study of the many varying expressions of the inner life1 leading to the selection of some characteristic pose or action1 the artist concentrates into a single image what seems to him to be the distinctive nature of the man4 ,and he can express this nature over again1 and so more effectively reveal it1 in the mere colors and lines which he uses4 ,thus ,franz ,hals has embodied the abundance and good cheer of his burghers in the boldness and brightness of the lines and colors with which he paints them2 and ,hogarth1 in the ,shrimp ,girl1 through the mere singularity of line and color1 has created the eerie impression which we attach to the girl herself4 ,the best portraits subordinate everything else1 such as costume and background1 to the painting of the inner life4 ,thus ,velasquez brings before us the souls of his little ,infantas despite the queer head-dresses and frocks which must have threatened to smother them4 ,the background should serve the same end2 if elaborate1 it should represent a fitting environment2 and if plain it should throw the figure into relief4 ,alongside of the portrait as a painting of the soul should be placed pictures of ideal characters2 ideal1 not in the sense of good1 but in the sense of more highly complex and unified than actually existing persons4 ,such pictures symbolize for us the quintessence and highest level of definite types of life4 ,manet's ,olympia and ,goya's ,maja belong here equally with ,leonardo's ,christ or ,mona ,lisa1 with ,raphael's ,madonnas and ,michelangelo's gods and angels4 ,in them is attained the most intense concentration of psychic life possible4 ,it is now pretty generally recognized that the unities of time and space exclude from the sphere of painting story telling and history1 which require for effective representation more than the single moment included in painting4 ,in order to tell a story in painting1 one has to supplement what is seen with ideas which can be obtained only from a catalogue or other source external to the picture2 one has to add in thought to the moment given on the canvas the missing moments of the action4 ,but a work of art should be complete in itself and so far as possible self-explanatory2 it should not lead us away from itself1 but keep us always to itself4 ,if the scene represented be a part of a story1 the story should be so well known that its connection with the picture can be immediately recognized without external aid1 and should admit of a certain completeness in its various parts4 ,the life of ,christ is such a story2 everybody knows it and can interpret a picture portraying it forthwith2 its various incidents and situations have each a unique and complete significance in themselves4 ,historical paintings are not necessarily bad1 of course1 but the good ones are good despite the history1 and a proof of their excellence consists in the fact that when we see them they make us forget for the moment our historical erudition4 ,this norm does not exclude from the sphere of painting the expression of the relation of man to his fellows2 it simply confines painting to the delineation of momentary and self-sufficient glimpses of social life4 ,pictures representing a mother and child1 a pair of lovers1 a family group1 festival1 tavern scene1 or battle charge are illustrations4 ,in ,dutch painting the social life of ,holland in the seventeenth century found its record2 yet there is little or no anecdote4 ,the genre1 the representation of a group of people united by some common interest and with an appropriate background1 has the same legitimacy1 if not the same eminence1 as the portrait4 ,it does not possess the rank of the portrait because1 since the interest is rather in the action or the situation portrayed1 the figures are more merely typical1 being developed only so far as is necessary to carry the action2 seldom is a subtle and individualized inner life portrayed4 ,objections are rightly raised1 however1 against pathetic1 sentimental1 and moralistic painting4 ,here color and line1 the whole picture in fact1 counts for little or nothing except to stir an emotion1 usually of grief or pity or love1 or to preach a sermon2 the unity of form and content is sacrificed1 the one becoming a mere means to the other4 ,but1 as we know1 it is never the purpose of art merely to stir feeling2 its purpose is to objectify feeling2 if the art be painting1 to put feeling into color and line1 and only when feeling is experienced as there is it aesthetic feeling at all4 ,and what shall we think of a picture like the ,doctor of ,luke ,fildes'1 which is so pathetic that one cannot bear to look at it8 ,surely a picture should make one want to see it6 ,of course ,i do not mean that an artist cannot paint pathetic and sentimental subjects4 ,the great painters of the ,passion would disprove that with reference to the former and ,watteau with reference to the latter4 ,but a power to achieve beauty of color and line and to objectify pathos and sentiment through them was possessed by these painters to a degree to which few others have attained4 ,for moralistic painting1 however1 there can be no excuse4 ,you can paint visible things and as much of the soul as can appear through them2 you cannot paint abstract ethical maxims4 ,of course a painter may intend his picture to be an illustration of some moral maxim1 or may even1 as ,hogarth did1 paint it to expose the sins of his age and create a beautiful work notwithstanding2 but only if1 in the result1 this purpose is irrelevant and the concrete delineation everything4 ,,chapter ,,xii ,,sculpture ,the sculptor has this advantage over all other artists1 that his chief subject is the most beautiful thing in the world--the human body4 ,in two ways the body is supremely beautiful3 as an expression of mind and as an embodiment of sensuous charm4 ,in the body mind has become actually incarnate2 there purpose1 emotion1 and thought have taken shape and manifestation4 ,and this shape1 through its appeal to the amorous1 parental1 and gregarious feelings1 and through the complete organization of its parts1 has no rival in loveliness4 ,what wonder1 therefore1 that sculptors have always thought of their work as simply one of mere imitation of nature1 the divine4 ,yet in sculpture1 as in the other arts1 the imitative process is never slavish1 but selective and inventive4 ,for the body is interesting to the artist only in so far as it is beautiful1 that is1 so far as it has charm and exhibits the control of mind2 some of its details and many of its attitudes1 having no relation to either1 are unfit for imitation2 and1 although inspired by his model1 the sculptor seeks to create out of his impressions a still more harmonious object4 ,to give to his material the semblance of the body beautiful is the technical problem of the sculptor4 ,although this semblance is primarily for sight1 it is not exclusively so4 ,for in sculpture shape is not two-dimensional1 but plastic2 and for the full appreciation of plasticity1 the cooperation of touch is required4 ,moreover1 not only the perception of the form1 but also a large part of the appreciation of the charm of the body depends upon touch4 ,of course we do not ordinarily touch statues1 but they should make us want to touch them1 and we should touch them--in the imagination4 ,the surfaces of the statue should therefore be so modeled as to give us1 in the imagination1 the pleasures that we get when we touch the living body4 ,it is well known that these touch values were destroyed by the neo-classicists when they polished the surfaces of their statues4 ,such sculpture for the eye only is almost as good when reproduced in an engraving that preserves its visual quality1 and is therefore lacking in complete sculptural beauty4 ,but no plane reproduction can replace the best ,greek1 ,italian1 or ,french work4 ,the life of the statue should1 however1 be more than skin deep4 ,we should appreciate it through sensations of motion and strain as well as through sight and touch1 feeling the tenseness or relaxation of the muscles and tendons beneath4 ,we should move with its motion or rest with its repose4 ,and this does not mean that we should merely know that an attitude of quiet or of motion is represented2 we should actually experience quiet or motion4 ,in our own bodies sensations corresponding to these should be awakened by the visual image of the statue1 yet should be fused with the latter1 becoming for our perception its1 not ours1 in accordance with the mechanism of einfuhlung described in our fourth chapter4 ,the light rhythmic motion of the figures in ,carpeaux's ,dance should thrill in our own limbs1 yet seem to thrill in theirs4 ,because it preserves the full three-dimensional presence of the body1 sculpture is1 next to the drama1 the most realistic of the arts4 ,this realism is not1 however1 an unmixed advantage for general appreciation4 ,for1 finding the shape of the body1 men sometimes demand its color and life1 complaining that the statue is cold and dead2,footnote3 ,see ,byron1 ,don ,juan1 ,canto ,,ii1 cxviii4 or else1 giving life to the form1 they react to it practically and socially1 as they would toward the real body4 ,yet1 for the one attitude1 the art itself cannot be held responsible1 but rather some want of genius in the artist or lack of imagination in the spectator2 and as for the other1 although only a bloodless dogma would demand the elimination of passion and interest from the appreciation of sculpture--for unless the marble arouse the natural feelings toward the body it is no successful expression--nevertheless1 good taste does demand that1 through attention to form and a sense of the unreality of the object1 these feelings be subdued to contemplation4 ,in order to keep the statue on the ideal plane1 it should not be too realistically fashioned4 ,if it looks too much like a man1 we shall first treat it as a man1 as we do one of ,jarley's or ,mme4 ,tissaud's waxworks1 and then after we have been undeceived1 we shall have toward it an uncanny feeling1 totally unaesthetic1 as towards a corpse4 ,the statue1 therefore1 if life-sized1 should not be given the colors or clothing of life4 ,tinting is not excluded1 provided no attempt is made at exact imitation2 and when the statue is of heroic1 or less than the normal size1 as in porcelain1 both coloring and clothing may be more realistic4 ,no hard and fast rules can be formulated2 yet the principle is plain--there should be realism in one aspect1 above all in shape1 in order that there may be an aesthetic semblance of life1 but not in all1 in order that the statue may not be a mere substitute for life1 awakening the reactions appropriate to life4 ,moreover1 appreciating the beauty of his material1 the sculptor may not wish to cover it up1 as he would if he tinted it4 ,as in painting1 the attainment of beauty in the medium may interfere with full realism in execution4 ,for the sake of beauty of color1 the worker in bronze will be content to see the white man black1 and for the sake of beauty of line he may even sacrifice something of exactness in the rendering of shape4 ,for there is a beauty in the media of sculpture1 apart from what they may represent1 quite as real1 if not as obvious1 as in the other arts4 ,and without this beauty1 there is no artistic sculpture4 ,its subtlety does not diminish its importance or its effect upon our feeling1 for it makes all the difference between a mere imitation of nature and a work of art charming and compelling4 ,we do not need to recognize its existence explicitly in order to appreciate it2 yet1 as soon as our attention is called to it1 we admit it and accord to it that rare influence which before was felt but nameless4 ,in the first place1 the color of the material is expressive4 ,the black and gold of bronze have a depth and intensity1 the whiteness of marble a coldness1 clarity1 and1 serenity1 inescapable4 ,the weight and hardness1 or lightness and softness1 of the material1 also count4 ,if people do not feel the expressiveness of these qualities directly1 they nevertheless do feel it indirectly1 whenever they appreciate the superior fitness of marble and bronze for the embodiment of the heroic and supernatural1 and of the light and fragile porcelain for the more fleeting and trivial phases of life4 ,size1 too1 is expressive4 ,there is a daintiness and tenderness about a little statue1 contrasting strongly with the grandeur and majesty of one of heroic size4 ,the usual small size of the terra cotta figurines among the ,greeks was appropriate for the genre subjects which they so frequently represented1 and an ,aphrodite in this material is rather the ,earthly than the ,heavenly ,love4 ,there is also an evident beauty of line in sculpture1 similar to the beauty of line in painting4 ,the curved line is expressive of movement and grace2 the horizontal1 of repose2 the crooked line1 of energy and conflict4 ,compare1 from this point of view1 ,rodin's ,the ,aged ,helmet- ,maker's ,wife with his ,danaid1--how expressive of struggle and suffering are the uneven lines of the former1 how voluptuous the curves of the latter6 ,michelangelo is the great example of the use of tortuous lines for the expression of conflict4 ,undulating vertical lines are largely responsible for the grace and dignity of the classic sculpture4 ,there is an organic unity of line in sculpture1 similar again to that in painting4 ,and by line ,i mean not only surface lines1 but the lines made by the planes in which the body lies1 the lines of pose and attitude4 ,the predominance of a single type of line1 the union of many lines to form a single continuous line1 balance and symmetry of line1 proportion of length and parallelism1 are all to be found in sculpture4 ,especially important is rhythm--the harmonious1 balanced movement of lines4 ,in the ,venus de ,milo1 for example1 the plane of the lower limbs from the feet to the knees moves to the left2 there is an opposite and balancing movement from the right knee to the waist2 the first movement is repeated in the parallel line from the right hip to the top of the head2 this1 in turn1 is balanced by a line in the opposite direction running from the left hip to the right shoulder1 parallel to the second line2 but the equilibrium of line is not a rigid one1 for the body as a whole moves in an undulating line to the left1 imparting grace and a total unity4 ,the beauty of line in sculpture is1 of course1 no invention of the artist2 for nature has created it in the body itself4 ,the sculptor takes this beauty as the basis of his work1 remodeling only by the elimination of details1 through which purer effects of line are obtained1 or by the selection and emphasis of pose1 through which these effects are rendered more intensely expressive4 ,all conventionalization is in the interest of increased beauty of line4 ,but too great a sacrifice of the natural contours of the body1 as in some of the work of the ,cubists1 results in a lifelessness that cannot be atoned for by any formal beauty4 ,the unification of line in sculpture is a matter not only of lines within the whole and of single contours1 but of the total visual form of the whole1 of silhouette4 ,although three-dimensional1 every statue casts a two-dimensional image on the retina4 ,it makes as many of these plane pictures as there are points of view from which it can be seen4 ,one can easily convince oneself of this by viewing a statue from a distance1 when it will flatten out to a mere outline or silhouette4 ,as such1 it should be clear and simple and pleasing1 capable of being grasped as a whole irrespective of detail4 ,michelangelo demanded that every statue be capable of being put inside of some simple geometrical figure1 like a pyramid or a cube2 that there be no wayward arms or legs1 but close attachment to the body1 so close that the statue might be rolled down hill without any part being broken off4 ,this last is perhaps too rigorous a requirement1 but the best work of all periods exhibits visual clarity and concentration4,footnote3 ,compare ,adolf ,hildebrand1 ,the ,problem of ,form in ,painting and ,sculpture4 ,within its contours the statue stands alone4 ,this is the essential difference between painting and sculpture2 the painted thing is always a part of a larger spatial whole within which it exists in relation to other things1 while the sculptured thing exists by itself2 the space of the statue is the space which it fills2 there is no further space to which it belongs1 no background in which it lies4 ,the space of sculpture1 like the space of painting1 is of course a represented or imaginary space1 to be carefully distinguished from the real space of the room in which it is placed and the floor upon which it stands4 ,the pedestal serves the same purpose in sculpture as the frame in the sister art2 it cuts off the ideal space which the statue fills from the real space where it is housed1 raising it above the common ground of real life1 with its practical and social attitudes1 into the realm of contemplation4 ,the pedestal should be of a different material from the statue1 else it belongs with the latter1 and fails to perform its separating junction4 ,the plate1 on the other hand1 should be of the same material1 otherwise the statue would be made to stand on our earth1 and in the same space with us4 ,however1 just as in painting every object should be represented as belonging to a wider whole of space1 so in sculpture1 every part of the body should be represented as belonging to the whole body4 ,if1 therefore1 only a part of the body is sculptured1 it should be evident that it is a part and not the whole4 ,in the portrait statue1 for example1 if the head alone is represented1 there should appear1 along with the head1 as much of the bust as will suggest attachment to the body1 in order that it may not seem decapitated6 ,it is because the torso is so obviously a fragment of an ideal whole that we do not feel it to be an uncanny mutilation of a man or woman4 ,in its present condition1 the ,venus de ,milo is not the statue of an armless woman1 but a statue of part of a whole woman4 ,a statue is not sufficiently unified by representing a single individual or several individuals united by some common interest or by participation in some common action2 the unity in the object should be expressed through a unity in the material of representation4 ,the finest taste requires that every statue should be made of only one kind of material4 ,one part1 say the body1 should not be of marble1 and another part1 say the girdle1 of gold or bronze4 ,such a combination of materials gives the impression of two things juxtaposed1 not of a single whole4 ,if in defense of this one were to say that through the difference of materials real differences in the object are portrayed1 consistency would require that the principle be carried out1 that the hair be of another material1 and the eyes of still a third1 with the result of making the statue a sheer agglomerate4 ,and when more than one individual is represented1 even a unity of material is not sufficient2 it is necessary1 in addition1 that the several figures in the group be in contact with each ,other4 ,it is not enough that they stand on the same plate2 for the real empty space that we see between them will keep them apart4 ,the ideal space to which they belong1 and the spiritual or dramatic oneness1 should be mediated by a material touch of hands or other parts of the body4 ,compare1 in this connection1 ,rodin's ,citizens of ,calais where this principle is violated1 with the three figures from the summit of his ,hell ,gate1 where it is observed4 ,in the former we simply know that the figures belong together1 but we do not feel them as together4,footnote3 ,compare ,lipps1 ,aesthetik1 ,bd4 #b1 ,fuenftes ,kapitel4 ,in the normal type of sculpture only one figure is represented4 ,for this1 there is1 perhaps1 a chief point of regard1 in front1 the same as that which we ordinarily occupy with reference to our fellow men4 ,yet1 since the body is beautiful from every point of view1 the statue1 unless designed to fit into a niche1 should be so made that we shall want to move around it and survey it from every angle4 ,here is another difference between painting and sculpture4 ,in the group1 however1 where several figures are represented united by some common interest or by participating in some common action1 this difference is already beginning to disappear4 ,for1 in order to appreciate the dramatic significance of the group1 the point of regard from in front is essential4 ,the other aspects remain important for their corporeal beauty1 but1 since that is not ordinarily paired with an equal inner significance1 they come to acquire a secondary place4 ,impressionistic sculpture represents a further departure from the normal and in the direction of the pictorial4 ,here part of the block from which the statue has been hewn is left an integral member of the piece2 and out of it the figure seems to grow1 as it were4 ,it performs in the whole a function corresponding to the background of a portrait--the representation of the environment4 ,thus1 in ,meunier's ,the ,miner1 the block represents the mine2 in ,rodin's ,orpheus and ,eurydice1 it represents the mouth of ,hades2 in his ,mystery of the ,spring1 a basin4 ,through the possibility of thus representing the relation of man to his environment a notable extension in the scope of sculpture is obtained4 ,when a background is introduced1 the figure or figures1 being members of a larger whole1 require less detailed treatment1 less clearness of outline4 ,their parts may even be left in large measure unfinished1 the contours melting together with the block4 ,a special point of regard1 from which alone the figures are modeled1 is obviously essential4 ,striking is the contrast of this type with the classic1 where the utmost precision in modeling is necessary4 ,along with the diminished emphasis on clearness of form goes an increased effort at the portrayal of the inner1 more spiritual life2 sentiment and mystery find an unwonted place in the art4 ,rodin's ,psyche is a good illustration4 ,yet1 despite these differences1 the classic demand for living surfaces1 for rhythmical lines1 for perspicuity and totality of silhouette1 for singleness and unity of material1 abides4 ,however1 when the block attains prominence1 the unification of the different figures through contact is no longer of equal necessity4 ,the background serves the purpose of bringing the figures together1 of providing a material bond between them4 ,this is especially true in the various kinds of relief1 between which and sculpture in the round1 impressionistic sculpture is a sort of compromise4 ,in relief there may even be a representation of perspective1 the figures seeming to lie behind each other1 flatter and smaller to indicate distance4 ,but we shall not enter into the technique of this1 which obviously approaches that of painting4 ,when the charm of the body is the prime object of expression1 those actions and poses which exhibit grace and vigor are the ones naturally chosen4 ,this beauty is best revealed in the single figure1 because in the group there is usually some dramatic interest which diverts attention from it4 ,the figure is preferably wholly or partially undraped1 or when drapery is used1 it should reveal the body underneath and possess beauty of line of its own4 ,elaboration of drapery for its own sake1 or in order to display virtuosity in modeling1 shows lack of true sculptural vision1 which always has its eye on the naked form4 ,aside from lack of charm1 the old and crippled are avoided because their inharmonious lines would appear again in a statue which reproduced them2 it is not possible1 as in painting1 to make a harmony out of them through relation to other lines in the total work1 for no other lines exist2 nor can their natural ugliness be so easily made acceptable through beauty of color and light4 ,nevertheless1 no one can dogmatically assert that the artist must confine himself in his choice of subjects4 ,if by harmonizing the distorted lines of an ugly body with each other1 and by enhancing the given purity and expressiveness of his material1 the artist can create a beauty of form overlying the repellence of the subject1 and if he can make us feel the tragedy or pathos of age and disease1 no one can gainsay his work4 ,in his ,aged ,helmet-,maker's ,wife1 ,rodin has perhaps accomplished this4 ,footnote3 ,see ,rodin's own defense of this statue in his ,l',art1 chap4 ,,ii4 ,in the classic sculpture the expression of the inner life is subordinate to the expression of corporeal beauty4 ,or1 so far as mind is revealed1 the revelation occurs through the body as a whole1--through attitude and pose and act4 ,in this way complete unity between the inner and the outer beauty is preserved4 ,for when through subtle modeling of the face the expression of the intense and individualized life of thought is attempted1 the beauties of soul and body tend to fall apart and become rivals for attention4 ,in classic sculpture1 therefore1 the face is rightly somewhat inexpressive1 or better1 is expressive of only the broad and typical human emotions4 ,fine or deep qualities may1 however1 be expressed2 for dignity1 poise1 intelligence1 sorrow1 and active joy make themselves manifest in the total habitus of the body no less than in the face4 ,the work of ,michelangelo is a further proof that sculpture can express the spiritual life1 not only in the face1 but in the body also4 ,the expression there is no different in essential kind from that found in the heroic classic sculpture4 ,it is universal1 typical1 not individual1 personal2 of the gods1 not of men4 ,its quality alone differs2 it is monstrous1 pathological1 grandiose1 instead of serene and happily balanced4 ,but sculpture can also portray the individualized psychic life4 ,footnote3 ,consult the discussion in ,rodin's ,l',art1 chap4 ,,vii4 ,for this1 the portrait bust is the most appropriate medium of expression4 ,by separating the head1 the natural seat of mind1 from the rest of the body1 the rivalry between the beauty of soul and form is obviated4 ,how much sculpture can do in this way is shown by the work of the ,greeks and ,romans in ancient times1 and by such men as ,houdon and ,rodin among the moderns4 ,think of the intense and concentrated expression of thought and emotion in the ,voltaire of ,houdon and the ,dalou of ,rodin6 ,success depends largely upon the modeling of the subtle lines of the face1 where the more highly specialized workings of the mind leave their impress4 ,whatever of character the face may express can be expressed over again in its image4 ,of course the unique responses of mind to definite situations1 such as1 for example1 the conversation of a man with his fellows1 cannot be portrayed in sculpture1 which isolates the individual4 ,but the characteristic mood and attitude1 the permanent residuum and condition of these responses1 can be portrayed2 and this constitutes personality or character4 ,as ,schopenhauer declared1 the character of a man is better revealed in the face when he is in repose than when he is responding to other men1 for there is always a certain amount of dissimulation or insincerity in social intercourse4 ,the impossibility of rendering the color and animation of the eye constitutes a real deficiency1 but1 as has often been pointed out1 this is partly minimized through the fact that the expression of the eye depends largely upon the brows2 by itself1 the eye is inexpressive4 ,the portrait statue has much the same purpose as the bust1 and hence should be draped4 ,the heroic1 equestrian statue1 however1 expresses rather the imposing1 socially perceptible side of the man1 than the inner life of thought and sentiment revealed in the bust4 ,the development of sculpture has produced nothing more beautiful than the solitaire statues which the ,greeks have left us2 and when we think of ,greek sculpture we usually have in mind these marble or bronze images of gods and heroes4 ,but we should not forget the figurines of terra cotta1 a genre sculpture1 representing men and women in the acts and attitudes of daily life1 at work and at play4 ,the ideal of sculpture should not be pitched too high4 ,there is no reason why1 with the example set by the ,greeks1 sculpture should not portray the lighter and more usual phases of human life4 ,if sculpture is to strike new paths1 and be something more than a repetition of classical models1 it must become more realistic4 ,and1 as we have already noted1 by making use of the block as a sort of background1 even some relation of man to his environment can be represented4 ,through the group the simpler relations of man with his fellows--comradeship1 love1 conflict1 or common action--can be expressed2 although the power of sculpture is greatly limited in this direction4 ,sculpture is often taxed by people who emphasize the importance of the political and industrial mechanism with inability to portray large groups of men and the more complex relations arising out of the dependence of man upon nature and society4 ,but one may well urge the compensating worth which sculpture will always possess of recalling men to a sense of the value and beauty of the individual as such1 especially in an age like our own where they tend to be forgotten4 ,the principles that apply to the use of historical1 literary1 and symbolic themes in painting hold with increased force in sculpture4 ,we must admit the right of the sculptor to illustrate simple and well-known historical or fictitious situations4 ,at the same time1 however1 we must remember that a work of this kind is subject to a twofold standard3 first and indispensable1 the sculptural1 is the form animate and beautiful2 then1 are the life and action appropriate to the idea8 ,the first is alone absolutely unequivocal4 ,the second1 on the other hand1 is largely relative2 for unless the sculptor has carried out the idea in so masterly a fashion that we can think of no other possibility--as ,phidias is said to have done with his statue of ,zeus--there must always be something arbitrary about any particular representation4 ,this arbitrary element is increased in symbolic sculpture4 ,you can perhaps depict an actual or fictitious human situation by means of sculptured bodies and make your image seem inevitable2 but how can you make bodies the vehicles of abstractions8 ,moreover1 sculpture is a realistic art2 it presents us with the semblance of living forms1 and if these forms are monstrous or are shown accomplishing impossible things1 they cannot escape a certain aspect of the ridiculous4 ,i have in mind ,rodin's ,man and ,his ,thought4 ,if the man were only represented fashioning the figure with his hands1 his hands guided by his thought2 but the hands are inactive1 and the figure grows by thought alone6 ,or consider ,the ,hand of ,god by the same artist4 ,to say that we are in the hands of ,god is a good metaphorical way of expressing our dependence upon the ,destiny that shapes our ends2 but it is another thing to exhibit us as actually enfolded by a hand4 ,the more sensitive we are to the beauty of the body and of the mind1 so far as manifest through the body1 the better content we shall be with normal sculpture and the less urgently we shall demand symbolism4 ,of course all statues may become symbolic1 as all works of art may1 in the sense of possessing a universal meaning won by generalizing their individual significance4 ,symbolic in this legitimate way were the statues of the ,greek gods2 thus ,aphrodite1 who was lovely1 became ,love1 and ,athena1 who was wise1 became ,wisdom4 ,but there is nothing arbitrary in such symbolism4 ,,chapter ,,xiii ,,beauty ,,in ,,the ,,industrial ,,arts3 ,,architecture ,in the arts which we have studied so far1 beauty has been the sole or chief end2 in the industrial arts1 beauty can be only a part of their total meaning4 ,no matter how much of an artist a builder or a potter may be1 he is necessarily controlled by the practical needs which houses and pots subserve4 ,this was the original condition of all artists2 for in the beginning1 before life's various aims were distinguished and pursued in isolation1 the beautiful was always married to some other interest4 ,our method of study has1 therefore1 reversed the temporal order2 but with intent1 for we believe that the nature of a thing is better revealed in its final than in its rudimentary form4 ,to complete our survey of the arts1 we must1 however1 give some consideration to those works in which the unity of the useful and the beautiful is still preserved2 and as an example we have chosen architecture1 the most magnificent of them all4 ,first1 we must clear up what might seem to be an inconsistency in our thinking4 ,in our definition of art we insisted upon the freedom of beauty and the contrast between the aesthetic and the practical attitudes1 yet now we are admitting that some things may be at once useful and beautiful4 ,it would seem as if we must either modify our definition of art or else deny beauty to such objects as bridges and buildings4 ,but we cannot do the latter1 for the beauty of ,brooklyn bridge or ,notre ,dame in ,paris is a matter of direct feeling1 which no theory can disestablish4 ,and it is impossible to solve the problem by supposing that in the industrial arts beauty and utility are extraneous to each other1 two separable aspects1 which have no intimate connection4 ,for the fact that a bridge spans a river or that a church is a place of worship is an element in its beauty4 ,the aesthetic meaning of the object depends upon the practical meaning4 ,you cannot reduce the beauty of a bridge or a cathedral to such factors as mere size and fine proportions1 without relation to function4 ,no preconceived idea of the purity of beauty can undermine our intuition of the beauty of utility4 ,yet the dependence of beauty upon utility in the industrial arts is not at variance with the freedom from practical attitudes which we have claimed for it4 ,for the beauty is still in the realm of perception1 of contemplation1 not of use4 ,it is a pleasure in seeing how the purpose is expressed in the form and material of the object1 not a pleasure in the possession of the object or an enjoyment of its benefits4 ,i may take pleasure in the vision of purpose well embodied in an object which another man possesses1 and my admiration will be as disinterested as my appreciation of a statue4 ,and even if ,i do make use of the object1 ,i may still get an aesthetic experience out of it1 whenever ,i pause and survey it1 delighting in it as an adequate expression of its purpose and my own joy in using it4 ,then beauty supervenes upon mere utility1 and a value for contemplation grows out of and1 for the moment1 supplants a value in use4 ,i now take delight in the perception of an object when formerly ,i took delight only in its use2 ,i now enjoy the expression of purpose for its present perceived perfection1 when once ,i enjoyed it only for its ulterior results4 ,such intervals of restful contemplation interrupt the activity of every thoughtful maker or user of tools4 ,thus the practical life may enter into the aesthetic1 and that which grows out of exigence may develop into freedom4 ,there is one more objection which may be urged against the aesthetic character of the expression of practical purpose1 namely1 that the appreciation of it is an affair of intellect1 not of feeling4 ,this would indeed be fatal if it were necessarily true2 but all men who love their work know that they put into admiration for their tools as much of warm emotion as of mind4 ,there remains1 however1 the genuine difficulty of communicating this emotional perception of useful objects1 of making it universal4 ,it must be admitted that the attitude of the average beholder towards a useful object is usually practical1 not contemplative1 or else purely intellectual1 an effort to understand its structure1 with the idea of eventual use4 ,most works of industrial art produce no aesthetic experience whatever4 ,but to be a genuine and complete work of fine art1 an object must be so made that it will immediately impel the spectator to regard it aesthetically4 ,from what we have already established1 we know how this requirement can be met3 by elaborating the outer aspects of the object in the direction of pleasure and expression4 ,by this means the beauty of mere appearance will strike and occupy the mind1 inducing the aesthetic attitude towards the outside1 from which it may then spread and embrace the inner1 purposive meaning4 ,the obviously disinterested and warmly emotional admiration of the shape will prevent the admiration for the purposive adaptation from being cold and abstract4 ,hence1 although from the point of view of utility the beauty of mere appearance may seem to be a superfluity1 it is almost indispensable from an aesthetic point of view1 since it raises the appreciation of the purpose to the aesthetic plane4 ,and we can understand how enthusiastic workmen1 whose admiration for their work is already aesthetic1 must necessarily desire to consecrate and communicate this feeling by beautifying the appearance of their products2 how inevitably1 through the ages1 they have made things not only as perfect as they could1 but as charming4 ,when developed for the ends of the aesthetic life1 the useful object exhibits1 therefore1 two levels of beauty3 first1 that of appearance1 of form and sensation1 line and shape and color2 and second1 that of purpose spoken in the form4 ,the first is of the vague and immediate character so well known to us2 the second is more definite and less direct1 since it depends upon the interpretation of the object in terms of its function4 ,the relation between the two is like that which obtains1 in a painting1 between color and line1 on the one hand1 and representation1 on the other4 ,when the first level of beauty is richly developed on its own account1 it becomes ornament4 ,in a ,greek vase1 for example1 there is a beauty of symmetrical1 well-proportioned shape1 delicate coloring of surface1 and decorative painting1 which might be felt by people who knew nothing of its use2 and1 in addition1 for those who have this knowledge1 a beauty in the fine balance of parts in the adjustment of clay to its final cause4 ,these factors1 which we have distinguished by analysis1 should1 however1 be felt as one in the aesthetic intuition of the object2 the form1 although beautiful in itself1 should reveal the function1 and the decoration1 no matter how charming1 should be appropriate and subordinate4 ,otherwise1 as indeed so often happens1 the beauty of one aspect may completely dominate the others2 when the object either remains a pretty ornament perhaps1 but is functionally dead2 or else1 if it keep this life1 loses its unity in a rivalry of beautiful aspects4 ,all these points are strikingly illustrated in architecture4 ,the architects claim that their art is a liberal one aiming at beauty1 yet most buildings to-day are objects of practical interest alone4 ,their doors are merely for entrance1 their windows for admission of light1 their walls for inclosure4 ,few people1 as they hurry in or out of an office building or a railway station1 stay to contemplate the majesty of the height or the elegance of the facade2 they transact their business1 buy their tickets1 check their luggage1 and go4 ,even when the building has some claim to beauty1 the mood of commercial life stifles observation2 or1 if the building is observed1 there is no strong emotion or vivid play of imagination1 no permanent impression of beauty lingering in the memory1 no enrichment of the inner life1 such as a musical air or a poem affords1 but only a transient and fruitless recognition4 ,for this reason many have thought that buildings must become useless1 as castles and ruined temples are1 in order to be beautiful4 ,yet1 in proportion as this is true1 it involves a failure on the part of architecture1 a failure to make the useful a part of the beautiful4 ,a building1 which was designed to be a habitation of man1 when taken apart from the life which it was meant to shelter and sustain1 is an abstraction or a vain ornament at best4 ,if the company which peopled it are gone1 it can win significance only if we re-create them in the imagination1 moving in the halls or worshiping at the altars4 ,we cannot get rid of the practical for the sake of the aesthetic1 but must take up the practical into the aesthetic4 ,for this reason architecture has achieved its greatest successes where its uses have been most largely and freely emotional1 most closely akin to the brooding spirit of beauty--in religious buildings4 ,most buildings1 it must be admitted1 are not beautiful at all4 ,in order to be beautiful1 they should be alive1 and alive all over1 as a piece of sculpture is alive2 there should be no unresponsive surfaces or details2 but most of our buildings are dead--dead walls1 dead lines1 oblong boxes1 neat and commodious1 but dead4 ,the practical problems which the architect has to solve are so complex and difficult1 and the materials which he uses are so refractory1 that there is inevitably a sacrifice of the beauty of appearance to utility4 ,the very size of a building makes it aesthetically unmanageable all over4 ,here the lesser industrial arts1 like the goldsmith's1 have an advantage in the superior control which the workman can exert over his materials2 his work is that of a single mind and hand2 it does not require1 as architecture does1 the cooperation of a crowd of unfeeling artisans4 ,in architecture1 mechanical necessities and forms threaten to supplant aesthetic principles and shapes4 ,the heavy square blocks1 the rectangular lines1 seem the antithesis of life and beauty4 ,all warmth1 all movement1 all love is round1 or at least oval4444 ,only the cold1 immovable1 indifferent1 and hateful is straight and square4444 ,life is round1 and death is angular4 ,footnote3 ,ellen ,key1 ,the ,few and the ,many1 translated from a quotation in ,max ,dessoir1 ,aesthetik und ,allgemeine ,kunstwissenschaft1 page #cif4 ,what vividness of imagination or sentiment can transmute these dead and hollow masses into a life universally felt8 ,and yet1 in a series of works of art among the most magnificent that man possesses1 this miracle was achieved4 ,the ,greek temples and ,gothic cathedrals are so much alive that they seem not to have been made with hands1 but to have grown4 ,the straight lines have been modified into delicate curves1 the angles have given place to arches1 the stiff and mathematical have been molten into movement and surprise1 the heaviness has been so nicely balanced or overcome that it has been changed into lightness1 with the help of human and animal sculpture and floral carving the inorganic has been transformed into the organic1 by means of painting and stained glass even the dull surfaces of walls and windows have been made to glow into life4 ,artists wrought each portion and detail1 and built the whole for the glory of ,god and the city1 a monument for quiet contemplation1 not a mere article to be used4 ,with few exceptions1 any architectural beauty that we create is but a feeble echo of theirs4 ,some day we may be able to produce something worthy to be placed by its side1 but only when we have sanctified our life with communal aims4 ,the aesthetic effect of a building depends upon many factors1 of which only a few can be analyzed by us in this short chapter4 ,if we abstract from its relation to purpose1 architecture is fundamentally an art of spatial form4 ,working freely with it1 under the sole limitation of function1 the architect can make of this form a complex1 various1 and beautiful language intelligible to all men1 and possessed of a systematic1 yet fluent logic4 ,of this language the simplest element is line4 ,at first view1 as we approach a building from the outside1 its beauty1 as in the case of sculpture1 is essentially pictorial4 ,for1 although a building is a three-dimensional solid in reality1 each view of it is a two-dimensional surface1 bounded by lines and divided and diversified within by other lines4 ,now these lines have their life and beauty like the lines of a picture4 ,how they get this life and what its specific quality is in the case of particular lines1 we need not explain again2 but no one can fail to feel the upward movement of the vertical lines of the ,gothic style1 the repose of the horizontal lines of the ,renaissance style1 the playful grace of the ,rococo4 ,naturally1 since the front of a building1 where one enters1 is the most important and the most constantly in view1 its pictorial beauty is elaborated with especial care by the architect4 ,this is the justification of the overshadowing preeminence of the facade in ,renaissance palaces1 which indeed was oftentimes the only visible part of the outside of the building4 ,when1 however1 the building is perspicuous all round1 it should1 like a statue1 present a beautiful view from every standpoint4 ,in architecture1 as in painting1 the visual elements are adapted to one or the other of the two chief ways of seeing4 ,either the surfaces are seen as wholes primarily and the details in subordination2 or else the parts stand out clear and distinct1 and the whole is their summation4 ,the former is always the case when the surfaces are left plain with few divisions1 or1 if the surfaces are divided1 when the lines intersect and intermingle1 as is exemplified in late ,renaissance or ,baroque work1 where the walls are covered with lavish ornament1 the enframement of windows is broken by moldings and sculpture which carry into the surrounding spaces1 and where1 instead of embracing one story1 the orders comprise the entire height of the building4 ,the second possibility is well illustrated by the early classical ,renaissance1 where the surface of each story1 sharply separated from the others by the line of the frieze1 is divided regularly by arches or columns1 each window clearly enframed1 and every sculptured ornament provided with a niche4 ,there is1 however1 this fundamental difference between architectural and pictorial lines3 the latter are usually pure kinematical lines1 lines of free and un-resisted movement1 while the former are usually dynamical1 lines of force which move against the resistance of mass4 ,in a picture objects are volatilized into light and have lost all weight2 but in architecture1 since they are present in reality and not in mere semblance1 their weight is retained4 ,a ,greek column1 for example1 not only moves upward1 but also against the superincumbent load of the entablature which it carries4 ,the difference between the two arts can be appreciated by comparing the picture of a building with the building itself2 in the former1 despite the fact that we know how heavy the dome or pediment is1 and how strong therefore the piers or columns that support it1 we hardly feel them as heavy or strong at all--the forces and masses have been transformed into abstract lines and shapes4 ,sometimes1 however1 architectural lines and surfaces remain purely kinematical2 on the inside of our rooms1 for example1 when the surfaces are smooth1 and especially when they are decorated1 we often feel no tension of conflicting forces1 but only a quiet play of movements2 it is as if the walls had been changed into the paper or paint that covers them4 ,the vividness of the expression of mechanical forces in architecture depends1 moreover1 upon the kind of materials employed2 it is greater in marble than in wood1 and less in our modern constructions of steel and glass1 where the piers move in single vertical lines from the bottom to the top of the building1 than in the old forms1 where the upper part of the building is frankly carried by the lower4 ,the mere expression of mechanical forces in a building would not1 however1 be aesthetic by itself1 no matter how obvious to the mind4 ,we must not only know these forces to be there1 we must also feel them as there2 we must appreciate them in terms of our own experiences in supporting weights and overcoming resistances4 ,we must transform the mechanical into the vital1 the material into the human4 ,art is an expression of life1 not of mathematics4 ,and this translation is not the result of an unusual1 artificial attitude assumed for the sake of aesthetic appreciation2 it is the natural mode of apperceiving force and mass4 ,we cannot see a column supporting an entablature without feeling that it stands firm to bear the weight1 much as we should stand if we were in its place4 ,if this is a pathetic fallacy1 it is one which we all inevitably commit4 ,even the skeptic1 if he were to examine carefully into his own mind1 would find that he commits it1 whenever he gives to the column1 not a casual or merely calculating regard1 but a free and earnest attention4 ,if he gives his mind to the column and lets the column take hold of his mind1 allowing his psychological mechanism to work unhampered1 he will commit it4 ,the aesthetic intuition of force--the human way of appreciating it--is1 in fact1 primary2 the purely mechanical and mathematical is an abstraction1 superimposed for practical and scientific purposes4 ,the interplay of humanized mechanical energies1 of which architecture is the expression1 may be conceived as the resultant of four chief forces1 acting each in a definite direction3 upward1 downward1 outward1 and inward4 ,the downward force is associated with the weight of the materials of which the building is constructed4 ,to all physical objects we ascribe a tendency toward the earth4 ,an unsupported weight will fall1 and even when supported will exert a pressure downward4 ,and this tendency is no mere directed force in the physical sense1 but an impulse1 in the personal sense4 ,for when with hand or shoulder we support a weight1 we inevitably interpret it in terms of our own voluntary muscular exertion in resisting it2 even as we strive to resist it1 so it seems to strive to fall4 ,although this force is exerted downward1 it shows itself in the horizontal lines of a building1 in string courses1 parapets1 cornices1 friezes2 for the horizontal is the line parallel to the earth1 toward which the force is directed1 and along which we lie when we rest4,footnote3 ,compare the discussion of ,lipps1 ,aesthetik1 ,bd4 #a1 ,dritter ,abschnitt1 although ,i am far from accepting all of his analyses4 ,opposed to the downward force is the upward force4 ,if an object does not fall1 it must be supported by a force in the upward direction2 the hand must exert a force perpendicular to the mass which it carries2 the body must hold itself erect in order to bear its own weight4 ,just so1 an architectural member1 if it is not to collapse1 must raise itself upward4 ,upward forces are revealed by the vertical lines of a building--the prevailing lines of columns1 piers1 shafts1 pinnacles1 towers1 spires4 ,we interpret vertical lines as moving upward1 partly because the eye moves upward in scanning them1 partly because we ourselves move in lines of this general direction in going from the bottom to the top of a building4 ,even when we are at the top of a building we apprehend its vertical lines as rising rather than as descending1 because we ourselves had to rise in order to get there4 ,converging lines1 as of towers and spires1 we also interpret in the same way as going to the point of meeting above4 ,acting in conjunction with the downward force is an outward one4 ,the lower parts of a construction tend to spread out as they give way under the weight of the superincumbent masses2 if they are very much broader than the latter1 they give the impression of great weight carried4 ,as a result1 a horizontal line is introduced1 and the longer it is in comparison with the vertical line of height1 the heavier the effect4 ,compare1 for example1 the impression made by a tall and thin triangular shape1 with a low and broad one2 and compare also the relative lengths of the horizontal and the vertical lines4 ,the former shape seems simply to rise1 while the latter lifts4 ,we seem to observe the working of this outward force1 as ,lipps has remarked1 in the spreading out of the trunks of trees at the base and in the feet of animals2 and we feel it in ourselves whenever we spread our limbs apart to brace ourselves to withstand a load4 ,whenever the outward force is resisted1 it gives evidence of the existence of a force operating in the opposed direction--inward4 ,without this force1 the lower parts of a construction would lack all solidity and spread like a molten mass on the ground4 ,this is especially striking where the material1 instead of spreading outward and downward1 seems to press itself inward and upward4 ,compare1 for example1 a shape whose base-line is smaller than the line of its top with one in which the reverse holds true4 ,the former gives the impression of lightness and agility1 with a prevailing upward trend1 the other an impression of weight and heaviness1 with a prevailing trend towards the ground4 ,obviously1 the outward and the inward forces are correlative and complementary3 we have already observed that a construction would collapse without the inward2 we can now see that it would disappear entirely without the outward4 ,obviously1 also1 the inward and upward go together1 and the downward and outward4 ,even a plain rectangular wall manifests the interplay of these forces4 ,the horizontal dimension represents the downward and outward force of the weight2 the vertical dimension1 the upward forces1 which prevent the wall from collapsing in itself and hold it upright2 while the lateral boundaries give evidence of the inward tension that keeps the mass together4 ,but the most beautiful expressions of architectural forces are to be found in the historical styles4 ,in each style there is a characteristic relationship between the forces1 imparting a distinctive feeling4 ,i shall offer a brief analysis of some of these4 ,many have recognized that the classical ,greek construction1 as illustrated in the ,doric temple1 expresses a fine equilibrium between the upward and the downward forces1 embodied in the vertical and horizontal lines respectively4 ,the upward force is manifest primarily in the vertical columns1 and is emphasized there by the flutings1 the slight progressive narrowing toward the top1 and the inward effort of the necking just below the echinus4 ,the downward force is embodied in the horizontal lines of the lintel1 architrave1 cornice1 and in the hanging mutules and gutta4 ,the two forces come to rest in the abaci1 which1 as the crowning members of the columns1 directly carry the weight of the entire entablature4 ,the equilibrium between the horizontal and the vertical tendencies is1 however1 not a static but a moving one2 for the two opposing forces are present in every part of the building from the stylobate to the ridge of the triangular pediment4 ,the downward force is already manifest in the widened base of the column1 where it works in conjunction with the inward tendency1 and shows its effect at the critical points at the top of the supporting column--in the spreading echinus with its horizontal bands beneath and in the horizontal lines of the abaci4 ,the upward force1 on the other hand1 is continued right through the solid mass of the entablature1 in the vertical lines of the triglyphs1 in the antefixes1 and even to the very apex of the building1 where the ascending lines of the triangular pediment meet4 ,the resulting total effect is that of a perfect1 yet swaying balance4 ,the aesthetic effect derived from the interplay of forces in the ,ionic form is similar to that in the ,doric1 only more delicate and elastic4 ,the slender columns1 being less rugged and resistant than the ,doric1 seem to transmit the weight supported1 which shows itself1 therefore1 in the outward spreading molded base2 but this apparent lack of strength in the column is compensated for by the elastic energy in the coiled spring of the volutes1 upon which1 with the slight mediation of a narrow band1 the entablature rests4 ,here most of the upward energy of the ,ionic form is concentrated2 for although the dentils of the frieze perform the function of the triglyphs1 they are too small to do it effectively2 the style lacks1 therefore1 the gentle harmonizing of forces all over1 characteristic of the ,doric1 and evinces instead a clean-cut elastic tension at a given point4 ,this effect is1 however1 somewhat softened by the breaking up of the downward force of weight by means of the recessed divisions of the architrave4 ,in the ,corinthian capital1 which has the same general feeling as the ,ionic1 the elastic tension is still further diminished through the renewed emphasis on the mediating abacus1 the reduction of the size of the volutes1 and the overhanging floral carvings4 ,however1 by reason of the strength given by the bell and the projecting outward and upward curving form of the abacus1 the suggestion of weakness in the ,corinthian form is overcome1 but the gentleness remains4 ,if the ,greek construction expresses a balance between the upward and downward forces1 the arched forms that followed express the victory of the upward4 ,in the arch the upward force1 instead of being arrested where the support meets the mass to be carried1 is continued throughout the mass itself4 ,of the two chief types of arches1 the round and the pointed1 each has a specific feeling4 ,we shall study the round form first1 where the vertical tendency is indeed victorious1 but only through reconciliation and compromise4 ,in the round arch all four forces are beautifully expressed4 ,the upward is manifest1 first1 in the vertical pier1 which acts very much as the column does1 and1 in ,roman work1 was often replaced by the column4 ,the opposing downward force is expressed in the horizontal upper bound of the arch and in the line of the impost1 also horizontal1 which breaks the vertical line and so marks the place where the two forces come into sharpest conflict4 ,in this conflict1 the vertical is victorious2 for1 instead of being stopped by the impost1 it is carried up throughout the entire construction by means of the upward and inward curving of the arch4 ,the very curve of the arch shows1 however1 that the victory is not absolute2 for its circular form is obviously determined as a compromise between an inward centripetal force1 moving upward and diminishing the breadth of the arch to a mere point at its apex1 and an outward centrifugal force1 gradually spreading the arch downward until it reaches its greatest breadth at the impost1 where it is arrested by the opposing vertical force in the pier4 ,to the historical imagination1 the round arch seems1 therefore1 to express the genial classical idea of a control by the higher nature which nevertheless did no violence to the demands of the lower4 ,in the spherical dome the effect is the same1 only the interplay of forces operates in three dimensions instead of two4 ,when arches are superposed1 the upward movement proceeds in stages1 beginning anew at each horizontal division of the wall space4 ,the use of entablatures applied to the wall and of engaged columns1 common in ,roman work1 seems to involve an attempt at a fusion of two contradictory styles1 and is usually condemned as such4 ,this contradiction can be solved1 however1 by viewing the entablatures as mere weightless lines of division of the wall1 usually marking off the different stories1 and by viewing the columns in a similar fashion as having no supporting function--which is actually the case--and as simply serving the purpose of framing the arches4 ,at most they merely indicate the direction of the chief contending forces1--the parallel lintels signalizing the force of weight1 and the vertical columns1 standing one upon the other1 pointing the movement of the upward force4 ,they have1 therefore1 a pictorial rather than a dynamic significance4 ,differences of feeling in arched forms depend upon the relative height of arches and supporting piers and columns4 ,the vertical effect is strongly emphasized when the latter are relatively high1 while the effect of weight is increased in flattened arches1 which for this reason are especially appropriate for crypts and prison entrances4 ,interesting complications are introduced in arcades or intersecting vaults1 where a single column serves as a support for two or more arches2 for there the vertical force is divided1 flowing in different directions in the little triangular piece of wall between1 or along the ribs of the vaults4 ,something similar occurs in the ,byzantine dome on pendentives1 only instead of supporting the horizontal weight of a gallery or a vault1 the triangular pendentives meet the outward thrust of a superposed dome4 ,in ,renaissance architecture and the modern classical revivals1 where ,greek and ,roman styles are freely adapted to novel modes of life and purpose1 no essentially new form was added to architectural speech4 ,there were combinations of old forms into more complex structures1 but no new important elements4 ,the most outstanding novelty is perhaps the reversed relation between the whole and the parts4 ,footnote3 ,see ,p4 ,frankl1 ,die ,entwicklungsphasen der neueren ,baukunst1 #aiad4 ,in the classic styles1 whether arched or ,greek1 the whole is built up of the parts additively2 each is a relatively independent center of energy complete in itself2 first the columns1 then the architrave1 frieze1 and cornice1 then the pediment2 or first one row of arches1 then another row on top of this1 and so on4 ,coordination is the governing principle4 ,but in the modern adaptations1 even where coordination rather than subordination rules in the pictorial sphere1 the whole is first dynamically and the parts are secondary4 ,in the typical ,renaissance facade1 for example1 the arches of the windows are rather openings in the walls than supporting members4 ,they are centers of little eddies of force1 rather than independent parts of the main determining stream of energy4 ,the wall rises as a whole to its heavy overhanging cornice1 despite the horizontal divisions marking the stories4 ,there are1 however1 important differences between the various modern types2 the earlier ,renaissance forms1 for example1 keeping closer to the antique than the later ,baroque and ,rococo4 ,the complete triumph of the vertical tendency1 foreshadowed in the ,roman1 was proclaimed in ,gothic architecture in the use of the pointed arch4 ,for in the round arch the vertical has not conquered after all2 the horizontal is still active there1 even to the apex of the arch1 where the tangential line is parallel to the earth1 the line of weight4 ,but in the pointed style the victory of the vertical is clearly decisive1--the upward and inward forces1 by elongating and narrowing the curve of the arch to a point1 have dominated the downward and outward4 ,the great height of the piers1 the gabled roofs1 the ribs of the vaults the pointed form of the windows1 the towers1 spires1 and pinnacles1--all proclaim it4 ,yet this victory does not occur without opposition2 for the higher the vaulting1 the greater the weight to be carried2 the greater1 therefore1 the outward thrust1 which had to find its expression and its stay in the buttress4 ,but even the buttress1 although it bears witness to the outward and horizontal force of weight1 was nevertheless so fashioned with its gable and pinnacle1 or its own arched form1 as to aid the upward movement4 ,the thinness of walls and partitions1 and the piercing of these with arches and windows1 by lightening the force of weight1 also contributed to increase the vertical movement4 ,at sight of a true ,gothic cathedral1 we feel ourselves fairly lifted off the ground and rushed upward4 ,in thinking of the beauty of architecture1 we are all too apt to consider the exterior exclusively1 forgetting that the inside of a building1 where we live1 is even more important practically1 and is capable of at least as great an aesthetic effect4 ,the characteristic aesthetic effect of the interior is a function of the inclosed space1 the volume1 not of the inclosing walls taken singly4 ,the walls are only the limits of this space1 they are not the space itself4 ,of course1 the walls within have their own beauty1 of surface and pervading energy1 but this does not differ markedly from that of the walls seen from the outside1 and what we have established for the one holds for the other4 ,but the beauty of the inclosed space is something entirely new4 ,in itself1 however1 mere volume of space is no more aesthetic than mere bounding line or surface2 in order to become beautiful1 it must become alive4 ,but how can space--the most abstract thing in the world--become alive8 ,by having the activities which it incloses felt into it4 ,just as our bodies are felt to be alive because our activities express themselves there1 so our rooms1 because we live and move within them4 ,as we enter a cathedral and look down the long aisle1 the movement of our eyes inevitably suggests the movement of our bodies2 or1 as we look up and our eyes follow the ribs of the vaulting1 it is as if we ourselves were borne aloft2 in the imagination we move through the open spaces2 and since we do not actually move1 we locate our impulses to movement1 not in our bodies1 but in the space through which we take our imagined flight4 ,every object suggests movement to it1 and we fill the intervening space with this imagined movement1 provided only we stay our activities and give time for the imagination to work its will4 ,thus all space may become alive with the possibilities of movement which it offers4 ,the aesthetic effects of volume vary chiefly according to size and shape4 ,in order to be appreciated1 these effects must in general be somewhat striking2 otherwise they pass unnoticed1 and we simply take the interiors of our buildings as matters of course4 ,it is a curious fact that an impression of vastness can be secured by inclosing a relatively small space4 ,a square1 like the ,place de la ,concorde1 or even the inside of a cathedral1 produces a feeling of size almost1 if not quite1 as great as an open prairie or sea4 ,the reason1 ,i suppose1 is that an inclosed space offers definite points as stimuli and goals for suggested movements4 ,as we imaginatively reach out and touch these points1 we seem to encompass their distance2 and the volume of our own bodies seems to be magnified accordingly4 ,the boundaries of the space become a second and greater integument4 ,this is of decisive importance2 for the aesthetic appreciation of size is relative to an appreciation of the size of our own bodies2 in nature itself there is nothing either large or small4 ,along with the sense of vastness goes a sense of freedom2 the one is the aesthetic experience resulting from the imaginative reaching of the goal of a movement1 the other is the feeling of the imagined movement itself4 ,when1 on the other hand1 an inclosure is small1 as in the case of a cell1 and especially when the ceiling or vault is low1 as in a crypt1 it feels cabined and confined1 because our own possibilities of movement are restricted4 ,in order to avoid this feeling1 if a space is limited in one direction1 it must be free in another2 if narrow1 it must be long2 if small in plan1 it must be high1 as in a tower4 ,the form of an inclosed space is also expressive4 ,there are two chief types1 the longitudinal and the radial2 but since these may exist either in plan or in elevation1 four possibilities result3 the longitudinal-horizontal1 as in an aisle2 the longitudinal-vertical1 as in a tower2 the radial-horizontal1 illustrated by every equilateral plan--triangle1 square1 regular polygon1 and above all1 the most perfect form of this type1 the circle2 and finally1 the radial-vertical1 of which domed spaces1 like the ,pantheon or ,st4 ,paul's1 are examples4 ,the terms used to designate them1 together with the examples1 afford a good idea of what these space forms are1 making further description unnecessary4 ,it is interesting to observe how different the expression of the square and the triangle is when they determine the plan of an inclosed space from what it is when they are the shapes of walls4 ,footnote3 ,compare ,fritz ,hoeber3 ,systematik der ,architekturproportionen1 ,,ii1 ,b1 a4 ,in the case of the latter1 according to the analysis which we have given of them1 the figures represent an interplay of antagonistic horizontal and vertical forces1 about an axis drawn perpendicular to the midpoint of the base line2 while as plans they express forces homogeneous in kind radiating from their centers4 ,the feeling of longitudinal forms is one of continued movement1 forward or upward as the case may be2 when the distance is very great1 the feeling is of infinity1 either of vista1 as in an aisle1 or of height1 as in a tower1 for even when the point at the end is clearly seen and known1 we continue it in the imagination4 ,the radial forms1 on the other hand1 even when the axes are very long1 express completeness and security1 for no matter how far we go in any one direction1 we have to proceed along a line which brings us back to our starting point2 in following to the top the movement of the curved line of a dome or an apse1 the continuation of the same line carries us down on the other side to a point corresponding to the one from which we set out2 if we wander1 we return home4 ,with reference to the division of interiors into parts1 the same two types are exemplified which we found in studying the visual and the dynamic aspects of buildings4 ,either the parts of the interior space are clearly marked off from each other1 and the perception of the whole which they constitute is reached by a process of summation2 or else1 to one standing within1 the space is first perceived as a whole1 and its parts1 lacking clear definition1 are perceived subsequently4 ,in the former type1 the parts are of pronounced individuality1 and the whole is their free and joint work2 in the latter1 the parts are merged1 and tend to be lost in the whole4 ,these two possibilities exist whether the space be of radial or longitudinal form4 ,in general1 the classical styles lend themselves to the coordinate type of division of the interior1 while the later styles favor the subordination of the parts to the whole4 ,the other factors in the beauty of architecture1 besides the expression of the forces resident in its forms1 can receive only scant notice from us4 ,among these is light--its admission1 exclusion1 and diffusion4 ,a house with ample windows flooded with sunshine shares the feeling of an open day2 a cathedral1 dimly lighted1 stimulates a mood of brooding mystery and meditation1 like some dark forest4 ,another factor is color4 ,color plays a double part in architecture3 first1 to enliven the neutral tones of certain materials2 and second1 to impart specific moods4 ,it was no barbaric taste1 but a keen feeling for life and warmth that induced the ,greeks to paint their temples2 and without their rose windows1 ,gothic cathedrals are like faces from which the glow of life is departing4 ,the different colors have the same feelings in architecture that they have in painting4 ,the reds and purples of ecclesiastical stained glass stimulate the passion of adoration1 the blues deepen it1 and the yellows seem to offer a glimpse of heavenly bliss4 ,sound1 its presence or its absence1 is another factor in architectural expression3 the quiet of the church in contrast with the noise of the busy street outside1 the peal of the organ1 or the chorus of young voices4 ,although architecture is a spatial art and music a temporal art1 they nevertheless go well together because the emotions aroused by both are vague and voluminous1 and the sounds1 reverberating from the walls and filling the inclosed spaces1 seem to fuse with them4 ,ornamental carving performs a diversifying and enlivening function similar to that of color4 ,so long as its lines follow those of the architectural forms1 it may well be rich and elaborate4 ,it is fitting1 moreover1 that buildings designed to be houses of the gods should contain their images1 and that the same spirit that expresses itself in playful lines should become embodied in griffin and gargoyle4 ,finally1 erected in the open1 with no shelter or enframement1 a building is1 in large measure1 a part of nature and possesses something of the beauty of nature4 ,rooted to one place like a tree1 it shares the beauty of its site1 and responds to the ever varying effects of light and shadow1 rain and mist and snow4 ,the abstract beauty of architecture can be understood without any knowledge of the purposes of buildings4 ,a ,hindu who knows nothing of our civilization cannot fail to be responsive to ,notre ,dame1 any more than we can fail to admire the beauty of ,taj ,mahal4 ,the very simplest architectural forms1 like the pyramids or the ,washington monument1 provided they are of sufficient size and mass1 speak an eloquent language which is immediately understood4 ,and the content of their speech is not so abstract as might be judged from our previous studies of it2 for in architecture1 as in music1 concrete emotions and sentiments flow into the channel cut by the form4 ,longing1 aspiration1 and mystery have universally been felt into a form pointing skyward2 and the feeling of incompleteness has been lost1 and security regained1 in an overarching dome4 ,there is1 however1 this difference between architecture and music4 ,in music1 the emotional content is purely personal2 while in architecture1 it may become social and historical4 ,architectural purposes are all social3 the purposes of a family1 a nation1 a cult4 ,and the purposes of the greatest of buildings--of those which serve the nation and religion--are also historical2 about them gather the traditions of a community4 ,centers of the life of a people1 created by it and enduring with it1 they become its symbols2 or outlasting it1 memorials and witnesses to it4 ,the vague emotions aroused by the architectural forms are pointed and enriched by this spirit3 the vastness1 seclusion1 magnificence1 mystery1 and aspiration of the ,gothic cathedral become associated with the life of the medieval ,catholic church2 the fine balance1 clarity1 and simplicity of the ,greek temple with the best in ,greek culture4 ,this interpretation of a building in terms of its purpose and history is necessary to a complete aesthetic appreciation4 ,without it1 a building may have many beauties1 all the beauties which we have analyzed2 but they are all separate1 and there is no beauty of the whole4 ,it is the life which the many parts and aspects serve that makes them into one4 ,i shall close this chapter with a brief discussion of architectural composition4 ,the unity of a building is constituted primarily by the necessary adjustment of part to part which makes possible the life that it incloses4 ,how the parts serve this purpose is not immediately evident to intuition2 nor can it be2 yet it should be intelligible to a thoughtful study4 ,the knowledge thus gained may then enter into an imaginative vision1 for which the building will seem like an organism pulsing with life4 ,this purposive unity cannot well be secured without spatial contiguity2 here1 as in sculpture1 a unified life demands a unified material4 ,yet sometimes detached structures belong together functionally1 and may be felt as one aesthetically1 provided they are similar in design and some one of them is dominant2 otherwise1 each claims to be a distinct individual1 and aesthetic rivalry is the result4 ,functional unity1 although necessary1 is not sufficient for aesthetic unity2 in addition1 there must be formal unity--design1 composition4 ,to study this adequately would require a separate treatise1 which has not yet been written1 so far as ,i know1 with anything approaching philosophical depth and completeness2 but for our plan it will be sufficient to show how the general principles of aesthetic form are illustrated in architecture2 and because of the perspicuity of things spatial1 these principles are nowhere else so lucidly manifest4 ,since architecture is a spatial art1 unity in variety is chiefly a matter of harmony and balance rather than of evolution1 and of these harmony is perhaps the most conspicuous4 ,harmony is secured in many ways4 ,first1 by giving the whole building or parts of the building a simple geometrical form readily perceived1--for example1 the cruciform plan of many ,gothic cathedrals1 the oblong plan and oblong surmounted by a triangle in the facade of the ,greek temple1 the octagonal shape of a ,renaissance chapel4 ,a higher degree of harmony is obtained when the same shape is repeated throughout the various parts of the building1--the cylinder in the columns1 the triangle or semicircle in the arches and gables4 ,a step further is taken in the same direction when the different similar parts are all of the same size1 as in the ,greek temple1 where the columns are all of one size1 and similar parts of columns of equal size1 and the metopes and triglyphs likewise4 ,a more complex type of harmony1 since it admits of greater variety1 is proportionality4 ,proportionality may be of various kinds4 ,it may be merely the existence of a definite numerical relation between the dimensions of single parts1 or the areas of various parts1 of a building4 ,this1 in turn1 may be either a simple arithmetical relation1 such as exists between the parts of a ,greek facade1 each being some simple multiple of the unit or module2 or a more complex relation like the ,golden ,section1 where the smaller is to the larger dimension as the larger is to the sum of both2 or like that which obtains when different parts form a geometrical series1 where each is smaller or larger than the preceding by some fraction of the latter4 ,the relation between the length and breadth of the facade of the ,ducal ,palace in ,florence illustrates the ,golden ,section2 the heights of the stories of the ,peller ,house in ,nuremberg form a geometrical series4 ,this type of harmony is most complete when the proportion between the dimensions of the different parts is the same as that of the whole building1--by the ancients called concinnitas because it produces a feeling akin to that of musical harmony4 ,dominance of a particular kind of line1 horizontal or vertical1 also gives harmony4 ,finally1 harmony is secured by sameness of direction of line3 the alignment of windows or parallelism between moldings dividing the surfaces of walls1 for example4 ,the relations1 so seemingly mathematical1 upon which architectural harmony is based1 need not be exact1 for two reasons3 minor deviations are not perceptible1 and even when perceptible1 they give to the whole a feeling of life4 ,our experience with living things has taught us that1 despite their orderliness1 there is no exact mathematical regularity in their proportions2 hence forms which cannot be precisely formulated are better fitted to symbolize life to us than the rigidly geometrical4 ,the same experience has taught us that the curvilinear forms are closer to life than the angular2 hence again the tendency1 for aesthetic purposes1 to introduce minute departures from the plumb-line and rule4 ,there is1 however1 a type of life specifically human1 the life of reason1 which is best symbolized by mathematical relations2 hence the ,greeks1 and all those who have followed the classical ideal1 all who have had a passion for reason1 have felt the circle and the square1 and every other exact embodiment of clarity and intelligence1 to be beautiful4 ,in no other art has the passion for the intelligible been so perfectly expressed as in classical architecture4 ,next in importance to harmony as a mode of unity in variety in architecture is balance4 ,balance implies emphatic variety1 or contrast4 ,one mode of balance1 that between the upward and the downward tendencies1 we have already discussed4 ,there is another mode1 similar to that which exists in painting and sculpture1 the balance between the right and left members of a building4 ,in order that this type of balance may be appreciated1 there must be some axis or line of mediation between the parts1 from which the opposing tendencies take their start2 otherwise we view the parts together1 instead of in opposition4 ,for example1 there is balance between two wings of a building which are separated by some central member or link2 balance between the aisles of a church on either side of the nave2 balance between the sets of three columns right and left of the door in the ,greek hexastyle temple4 ,such cases of symmetry between equal right and left parts are the simplest examples of balance2 but there are other1 more complex types4 ,for example1 the parts may be unequal1 yet balance nevertheless1 provided their inequality is compensated for by some enrichment of design or ornament in the lesser part4 ,or again1 there may be a balance between contrasting shapes1 such as the square and the triangle1 when they make an equal claim upon the attention4 ,although1 since architecture is a static art1 evolution is not so important as harmony and balance1 it exists nevertheless4 ,in a colonnade1 as you look down it1 with the height of the columns diminishing in perspective1 there is a rhythmical movement of eye and attention toward the last column as a goal4 ,there is the same rhythmical movement in following the arches on either side of the nave of a church leading to the apse4 ,there is a rhythmical movement in the progressive diminution of the height of the stories of a building1 going towards the top4 ,in such spatio-temporal rhythms1 the proportional equality between the members corresponds to the equal intervals in temporal rhythms1 and the alternation between member and intervening space1 or between member and line of division1 corresponds to the alternation between heavy and light accents4 ,last1 evolution is present in architecture1 whenever1 often without rhythmical divisions1 the attention is impelled to move along lines that meet at a point which serves as a climax1 as in all triangular forms where the lines lead up to the apex1--pointed windows or arches1 towers ending in belfries or pinnacles4 ,dominance1 with its correlative1 subordination1 are everywhere present in architecture4 ,in general1 size and a central position1 which usually go together1 determine preeminence4 ,the largest masses and those which occupy a central position inevitably rule the others4 ,the towers and the facade dominate the exterior of a ,gothic cathedral1 the middle doorway is superior to those which flank it1 and within1 the central and larger nave dominates the smaller aisles on either side4 ,when there are many dominant elements1 as is necessarily the case in a large building1 they must be unified by balance1 if there are two1 or by subordination to one of them1 if three or more2 otherwise1 each claims to be the whole and the building falls apart into its members4 ,there cannot well be three vertical dominant parts1 because the central one makes a claim to preeminence which cannot be satisfied without superiority in size4 ,a central member should1 therefore1 either be made larger than those flanking it1 or else should be reduced to the status of a mere subordinate link between the others4 ,in the horizontal division of a building into stories--as1 for example1 in the ,palazzo ,farnese near ,rome--it is easier for the prominent parts to be equal1 because they are better united by the evident contiguity of their masses1 by their inclosure in a simple geometrical shape1 and enframement between base and overhanging cornice4 ,yet here also we observe the tendency to make the middle larger or otherwise dominant1 exemplified even in the building cited1 where the central part is distinguished by the ornamental shield1 upon which the attention is focused4 ,when there are four horizontal divisions1 our tendency is to divide them into groups of two2 but unless this grouping is clearly marked by a molding or other such device1 our purpose is defeated because each of the two can itself be divided into two parts1 whence we get the four parts again1 among which there is not sufficient unity4 ,when1 however1 there are more than four stories1 they cease to function as individuals and become members of a series1 the rhythm of which creates the necessary unity4 ,even in this case1 however1 the tendency toward grouping into three with the middle dominant persists2 for1 as a rule1 the stories are divided by moldings into three parts1 of which the central part is the largest4 ,four equal stories are difficult because they at once resist an arrangement into threes and yet fall short of being the series which they suggest4 ,when a series of stories is divided into three parts1 a superior aesthetic effect is gained if the height of each story diminishes in some regular ratio from the bottom to the top1 thus expressing the gradual overcoming of the downward force by the upward1--the rhythm becomes dynamical as well as kinematical4 ,all good architectural styles illustrate the principle of impartiality1 which demands the careful elaboration of parts4 ,yet1 as we have indicated1 there are two possibilities3 some styles are founded on the idea of the subordination of the parts to the whole1 and so permit of a less elaborate execution of details1 while others are based on the idea of coordination among the parts within the whole1 and so require that each part be vividly clear1 distinct from the others1 and possessed of a pronounced individual beauty4 ,these two types are exemplified in each of the three aspects of a building--the visual1 the dynamic1 and the voluminal4 ,for the ,greek and ,roman architecture and for that of the ,renaissance1 the former was the ideal2 while the latter is clearly characteristic of the more modern forms2 between these stand the ,byzantine1 ,romanesque1 and ,gothic1 in which a union of the two types1 in what has well been called an organic type1 was attempted1 and perhaps achieved in the last4 ,the former has the feeling of the mechanical1 rational view of life1 which is the classical2 the latter has the feeling of the mystical and organic view1 which is modern4,footnote3 ,see ,p4 ,frankl1 ,die ,entwieklungsphasen der neueren ,baukunst1 #aiad4 ,,chapter ,,xiv ,,the ,,function ,,of ,,art3 ,,art ,,and ,,morality ,that an interest is innocent and pleasure giving is no longer considered sufficient to justify its existence2 it must also1 in order to be sanctioned in our jealous and economical world1 prove itself a beneficent influence upon the total man and the group4 ,for the time being at least1 the day of laissez-faire is done2 men can no longer appeal to their personal needs1 their inner necessities1 or even their consciences1 in defense of their activities4 ,public opinion1 and sometimes reason1 are the only arbiters of right4 ,it may well happen that1 in a new age1 men will be more generous and less exacting1 once again recognizing inherent rights in spontaneous activities2 but that age is not ours4 ,not even art can claim privilege2 in vain will the artist boast of his genius or the art-lover of his delights1 if he can exhibit no pervasive good4 ,it is not enough1 therefore1 that we should have described the peculiar1 inward value of art2 we must further establish that it has a function in the general life4 ,three classes of people1 the puritans1 the philistines1 and the proletarians1 question the value of art in this sense4 ,these classes are1 of course1 not new to our civilization1 but are rather perennial types of human nature1 appearing under one or another name and guise in every age4 ,to the puritan1 art is immoral2 to the philistine1 it is useless2 to the proletarian1 it is a cruel waste4 ,one illustration of the complexity of human culture is the fact that art has now been regarded as the symbol and ally of goodness1 and now as its enemy4 ,this paradox can1 ,i think1 be partly explained by making a distinction between the ethical and the moral point of view regarding conduct4 ,from the one point of view1 the good belongs to all free1 creative acts that look toward the growth and happiness of individuals2 from the other point of view1 it consists in conformity to law1 convention1 and custom4 ,it is evident that these two attitudes must sometimes come into open or secret conflict4 ,for law and convention represent either an effort to fix and stabilize modes of conduct that have proved themselves to be good under certain conditions2 or else1 as is more often true than is admitted1 an attempt to generalize the good of some special class or type of men and impose it as a norm for all2 and obviously these efforts will1 from time to time1 be opposed either to the freedom of individuals1 or to their growth1 under changing conditions4 ,now in the sense defined1 the spirit of art is fundamentally ethical and1 at the same time1 fundamentally non-moral4 ,it is fundamentally ethical1 for art is itself a freely creative and happy activity1 and tends to propagate itself in spontaneity in other fields2 it is an inspiration in every struggle for liberty and the remolding of the world4 ,the artist and art lover1 who value the expression of individuality in art1 cannot fail to appreciate it outside of art4 ,on the other hand1 the spirit of art is fundamentally non-moral1 for the sthetic attitude is one of sympathy--an attempt at once to express life and to feel at one with it2 it demands of us that we take the point of view of the life expressed and1 for the moment at any rate1 refrain from a merely external judgment4 ,through art we are compelled to sympathize with the aspiration towards growth1 towards happiness1 even when it leads to rebellion against our own standards and towards what we call sin4 ,the sympathy1 realism1 and imagination of art are antagonistic to conformist morality4 ,by making us intimately acquainted with individuals1 art leads to skepticism of all general rules4 ,the puritan1 therefore1 who is an exponent of the extremest and narrowest conformist morality1 is more nearly right in his interpretation of the relation between art and morality than more liberal people who1 because of their love of art1 seek to ignore or palliate the facts4 ,hence1 in order to defend art1 one must reckon seriously with the puritan4 ,the puritan is fearful1 above all1 of works of art that represent moral evil4 ,the method of artistic representation1 which aims at awakening sympathy for the life portrayed1 is bound1 he thinks1 to demoralize both the artist and the spectator4 ,but art is something more than sympathy1 and there are other aspects of the aesthetic experience which tend to render that sympathy innocuous1 even from the standpoint of the puritan4 ,in the first place1 the sympathy is usually with an imagined life that has no direct relation to the will and gives the spectator no opportunity to enter into and share it--he participates through the imagination1 not through the senses4 ,moreover1 neither the mind nor the will is a tabula rasa2 no mature person comes to a work of art without certain habits and preferences already predetermined1 which no mere imagination can destroy1 but only1 if at all1 some concrete opportunity and temptation4 ,hence men can lead a manifold life1 partly in the imagination and partly in action1 without any corruption of heart or paralysis of will4 ,in real conduct1 to lead a double life is demoralizing because there choices are exclusive and each of the two lives tends to interfere with and spoil the other2 but imagination does not conflict with reality1 for they have no point of contact and do not belong to the same world4 ,in the second place1 a work of art is an appeal to mind as well as to sympathetic feeling4 ,it is no mere stirring of emotion and passion1 but a means to insight into them4 ,the attitude of reflection which it engenders is unfavorable to impetuous action4 ,providing no immediate stimulus to action1 it allows time for a better second thought to intervene4 ,even when it offers suggestions for unwonted acts1 it furnishes the spirit and the knowledge requisite for determining whether they will fit into the scheme of life of the spectator4 ,it is characteristic of the puritanic critics of art1 in their eagerness to find motives for condemnation1 to overlook this element of reflection4 ,it is forgotten1 finally1 that by providing an imaginative experience of passion and adventure1 art often becomes rather a substitute for than an incentive to them4 ,the perfection of form1 the deep repose and circle-like completeness of the work of art1 tend to prevent one from seeking a corresponding real experience1 which would have none of these qualities1 but perhaps only misery and wear and tear instead4 ,thus the work of art may propagate itself in a search for new aesthetic experiences rather than in analogous conduct4 ,to the artist who is living the evil life which he expresses1 there can be even less danger in expression1 than to the spectator4 ,for the expression is not the cause of his life1 but only its efflorescence4 ,the roots of evil lie deep below in the subsoil of instinct4 ,without expression1 life would be much the same1 only secret instead of articulate4 ,the puritan shows a shocking naivete in thinking that he can reform life by destroying its utterance4 ,moreover1 to express life implies a certain mastery over it1 a power of detachment and reflection1 which are fundamentally ethical and may lead to a new way of living4 ,every form of life has an inalienable right to expression4 ,in order to be judged fairly1 it must be allowed to plead for itself1 and art is its best spokesman4 ,and that we should know life sympathetically is of practical importance2 for otherwise we shall not know how to change it or indeed that it ought to be changed at all4 ,only by knowing other ways of life can we be certain of the relative worth of our own way2 knowledge alone gives certitude4 ,without knowledge we run the risk of becoming ruthless destroyers of things which an intelligent sympathy might well preserve and find a place for in the world4 ,to all these considerations the puritan will doubtless oppose a truth impossible to deny4 ,experience1 he will say1 is one1 not many2 imagination and action are not separated by an impassable wall2 things merely imagined or dreamed1 even when they do not directly issue in action1 may nevertheless influence conduct through a slow and subtle transforming effect upon the sentiments and valuations which make up its background4 ,character can be maintained only by a vigilant and steady control over impulses which are always threatening rebellion2 purity of mind only through the rigid exclusion of the sensual1 luxurious1 and ignoble2 imaginative sympathy with evil1 even when sublimated in art1 must necessarily undermine the one and becloud the other4 ,if thine eye offend thee1 cut it out and cast it from thee4 ,the truth which the puritan announces does not1 ,i think1 warrant the inference which he draws from it or alter the situation as ,i have described it4 ,for morality1 to be genuine1 must be a choice2 the good must know its alternative or it is not good4 ,only those who already have a penchant for sin will be corrupted by imaginative sympathy with passion2 a character that cannot resist such an influence is already undermined4 ,life itself is the great temptation2 how can one who cannot look with equanimity upon statues and pictures fail to be seduced by live men and women8 ,if men can resist the suggestions that emanate from life they can surely withstand those that come from art4 ,and mere purity of mind is not equal in value to that insight into the whole of life which a freely creative art provides4 ,we wish to penetrate sympathetically all of our existence2 nothing human shall remain foreign to us2 we would enter into it all2 there is no region of the grotesque1 the infernal1 or the sinful from which we would be shut out4 ,in comparison with the sublimity of this demand for the complete appreciation of life1 the warnings of a rigorous moralism seem timorous1 and the sanctuary of purity in which it would have us take refuge1 a prison4 ,whatever conflict there may be between the spirit of art and conformist morality1 there is none with a genuine and rational ethics4 ,for the latter would formulate ways of living suited to the diversity of individuals and sympathetic with their every impulse and fancy4 ,it would impose external constraint only where necessary for the existence and perpetuation of social life1 leaving to personal tact1 good will1 and temperance the finer adjustments of strain4 ,but apart from aesthetic culture1 there can be no rational morality1 for that alone engenders the imaginative sympathy with individual diversity upon which the latter rests4 ,without imaginative sympathy morality will always be coarse1 ruthless1 and expressive of the needs and sentiments of some special type which sets out to reform or govern the world4 ,under such a regimen1 which is actual in every community devoid of imagination1 virtue must always remain suspect and vice tolerable2 the one a hypocrisy1 the other a secret and venial indulgence1 and nature will take its revenge upon the law in violent or perverse compensations4 ,hence1 instead of being a hindrance1 art ought to be a help to a rational morality3 its realism should foster sincerity1 its imagination1 sympathy and justice4 ,the moralist inspired by art would seek to impose upon men only that kind of form and order which is characteristic of art--one which respects the peculiarities of the material with which it works1 and issues in a system in which all elements freely participate4 ,footnote3 ,compare ,schiller1 ,on the ,aesthetic ,education of ,man1 ,fourth ,letter3 ,the civilized man makes nature his friend1 and honors her freedom1 while he merely fetters her caprice4 ,the philistine's objection to art is that it is useless4 ,and if we only knew what was really useful1 this would be a damning indictment4 ,but1 not being much given to abstract reflection1 the philistine is usually at a loss to inform us4 ,however1 by talking with him1 we can eventually divine what he thinks the useful to be4 ,useful is what contributes to the procurement of those things which he and his congeners value--material wealth1 power1 and sensual enjoyment4 ,art is useless because it will not prepare a banquet1 build a bridge1 or help to run a business corporation4 ,the artist is a contemptible fellow because he cares more for his art than for the things of the world2 for whatever the worldling values he thinks every one else should value4 ,to the artist1 criticism of this kind seems to betray the most shameless arrogance1 and he meets contempt with contempt4 ,who is he that would be the judge between worldly goods and beauty8 ,surely the philistine is no competent judge2 for he only can judge fairly between two values who appreciates both1 and1 by his own confession1 the philistine does not appreciate art4 ,hence the claim of the philistine seems not to merit consideration4 ,through his lack of sympathy for art1 he puts himself beyond the possibility of fruitful debate4 ,in this he is unlike the puritan1 who is often all too sensitive to beauty for his own good--hence his alarms4 ,if the objection of the philistine were the same as the proletarian's1 that art is a luxury1 a waste of the energies of the community1 which might better be employed in feeding the hungry and saving sinners1 it would be more worthy of a hearing2 and so he often represents it4 ,but in this he is hardly sincere2 and the appropriate answer is a tu quoque1 the fitting reply to every piece of insincere criticism4 ,does the philistine feed the poor and save the sinners8 ,who is commonly more careless of the workers' needs and more cruel to the fallen in his self-righteous probity8 ,for the philistine is often a puritan4 ,and who is more luxurious than he8 ,who consumes more in his own person of the energies of the toilers8 ,it costs little to maintain an artist1 but it taxes thousands to support the philistine and his wife4 ,of course1 in return1 the worldling performs a service to the community in the organization of industries1 but many of these do not sustain the needs of the masses and are devoted to the manufacture of luxuries for the well-to-do4 ,the insincerity of the philistine's attitude is disclosed by his changed attitude towards the artist who acquires fame and wealth through his art4 ,for now that the artist shows himself capable of getting the things the philistine values1 the latter accords him esteem4 ,or let an interest in art become fashionable1 and once again the philistine is won over4 ,the traditional hostility between the philistine and the artist is offensive to reason1 which would discover points of contact and reconciliation between all attitudes4 ,one apparent place of meeting might seem to be just the worldling's love of luxury itself4 ,luxury is a development of pleasure of sense beyond the necessary1 paralleling the freedom and refinement of sensation in art4 ,there is1 moreover1 a certain imaginative quality in reputation and glory1 so well-prized by the worldling1 which1 as we shall see1 is akin to the ideality of art4 ,and yet both the imagination and the luxury of the worldling are usually lacking in one element essential to real kinship with the spirit of art--disinterestedness4 ,the worldling's dreams of glory are projections of ambition1 his luxuries subtle stimulations of appetite or instruments of display1 her self-adornment a fine self-exhibition or coquetry4 ,the love of insight1 the free emotion1 the enjoyment of sensuous harmonies for their own sake1 are lacking or subordinate4 ,glory and luxury are too often mere masks of ambition and appetite1 and at best counterfeits of beauty4 ,nevertheless1 the luxurious developments of ambition and appetite are ever on the verge of tending toward the aesthetic4 ,for when ambition has no longer to struggle against the world and is satisfied1 the imagination that served it may become free2 and when appetite is cloyed1 the instrumentalities of sensuous pleasure can find a new meaning as beautiful4 ,then the worldling becomes the patron of the artist and the two are reconciled4 ,and all along this result was preparing4 ,for instinct seldom completely dominates imagination and sensation2 there is always some aesthetic freedom in the self-adornment and display of the wealthy4 ,the absence of anxiety may release aesthetic interests that would have died in the struggle for existence2 prosperity is often the herald of beauty4 ,the proletarian's criticism of art is of unimpeachable sincerity1 for when he talks of art as a luxury he speaks from the heart and in answer to bitter experience of want4 ,there is a genuine element of moral indignation in his feeling that there must be something wrong with a public conscience that countenances1 even glorifies extravagance1 all the while that women slave and children die of underfeeding and neglect4 ,this feeling is intensified when he compares the thousands paid for a single hour of a prima donna's song or a playwright's wit with his own yearly wage laboriously earned4 ,what supreme worth does art possess that it should be valued so disproportionately8 ,yet1 sincere as this complaint is1 it is largely misdirected2 for art is not the extravagance which it may superficially seem to be4 ,most of the best art has been produced by poor men who never dreamed of the prices that would be paid for their work when they were old or after they were dead4 ,and these prices represent no consumption of the labor and capital of the community1 but only a transference of wealth from one man to another4 ,even when the artist is paid large sums for his picture or opera or play1 these sums do not represent their real cost1 but only what they can command in a market controlled by rich consumers4 ,the real cost of genuine art is very small--only enough to maintain the artist in freedom for his work2 for he would still produce without the incentive of large rewards4 ,the seeming extravagance of art cannot1 therefore1 be blamed upon art itself1 but upon the price system of modern capitalist economy4 ,and this1 of course1 is clearly perceived by the intellectual proletarians1 who are willing to accord to the artist a place of honor as fellow-worker and comrade1 and direct their attacks1 not upon him1 but upon capitalism4 ,there is1 however1 a deeper root to the proletarian's grievance against the artist--the feeling that the moral principle of mutuality is violated in their relationship4 ,the workman plows for him1 cooks for him1 builds for him1 spins for him1 but what does he do in return8 ,he paints pictures1 makes statues1 writes novels or poems or plays or sonatas which the workman has neither the leisure nor the education to enjoy4 ,the money paid by the artist to the artisan represents nothing which the former rightfully owns or can give1 but only a claim to the labor of other men1 enforced by the system of wage-economy4 ,of course1 not only art but all speculation1 all pure science and disinterested historical knowledge1 is subject to this criticism4 ,and such criticism is no longer purely academic1 for to-day there exist large masses of men in every community determined to bring about a world dictatorship of the proletariat based on just this principle of mutuality in the relations of men4 ,is this principle itself rational1 and would art survive in a regime which embodied it8 ,these1 ,i repeat1 are no longer speculative1 but intensely practical problems4 ,those who fear for art in a society where the process of democratization should go to its extreme limit of development point to the moving picture1 the cheap magazine story and novel1 the vaudeville and musical comedy1 as a hint of what to expect4 ,these1 they will say1 are the popular forms of art1 to the production of which the artist would have to devote his time and skill in return for subsistence4 ,under the present system the people get what they want1 but in a proletarian state nobody would be allowed to get anything else4 ,of course1 as to what would happen in a workers' republic1 were it ever constituted1 we can only speculate2 but where we cannot know1 there hope has an equal chance with fear4 ,we have the single example of the ,russian experiment from which to make inferences1 the general validity of which is seriously limited by the peculiarities of the ,russian nature and situation4 ,but there1 at any rate1 we do know that efforts have been made to advance general education1 to bring the classic literature within reach of the masses1 and to encourage opera and drama4 ,in ,russia1 at all events1 the leaders of the revolutionary movement have sought rather to destroy what they believe to be a monopoly of culture than culture itself2 and in ,england also they have a similar aim4 ,there can be little doubt1 ,i think1 that our capitalist economy does promote a monopoly of culture4 ,through their control of the market1 the wealthy are able to bid up the prices of works of art until they are beyond the reach of the less prosperous4 ,as a result1 the best paintings and sculptures1 with the exception of those that find their way into museums1 are accumulated in inaccessible private collections1 and opera and music are made needlessly expensive4 ,one very evil consequence is the substitution of a purely pecuniary standard of valuation for aesthetic standards4 ,i know a painter who made the experiment of reducing the price of his pictures to twenty-five dollars1 in the hope that many people who really loved art but were unable to pay large prices would buy them1 and that thus1 by selling many of his pictures at a low price1 he would be able to make as much money as if he sold only a few at the prevailing high rates4 ,the experiment failed completely1 for people thought that paintings at such a low price must be inferior1 and even those who could afford to buy them1 would not4 ,the painter now tried the reverse experiment and raised the prices of all his works1 with much better success1 for people reasoned--the higher the price1 the better the picture4 ,but worst of all1 through the purely commercial motives governing those who undertake to supply the people with works of art1 the public taste is corrupted2 little or no attempt is made to educate the masses1 but merely to give them anything that will entertain them after a day of fatiguing labor1--anything that will sell4 ,the demoralizing effect of commercialism upon artists themselves is too well known to require more than a reminder2 hasty work for the sake of money supplants careful work for the sake of beauty2 whole arts1 like that of oriental rug weaving1 are thereby threatened with extinction2 and1 instead of producing spontaneous art that would express themselves1 people allow themselves to be merely entertained by things supplied to them1 nasty and cheap--folk art disappears4 ,if1 on the other hand1 the commercial motive were eliminated1 who can say what might not result1 in each community1 from the experimentation of men who could not make money but only honor and a living from the profession of providing people with interesting ways of spending their leisure4 ,the increased efficiency of machine tool work will inevitably make possible a great reduction in hours of labor1 when the workers themselves control industry for their own benefit rather than for that of a class bent on still further increasing its own wealth and power4 ,it is entirely possible that the leisure of men will then absorb as much of their devoted energies as work does now1 and that they will be educated for the one as well as for the other4 ,it is not impossible to hope that1 the machine tool supplanting the slave1 the commonwealth of workers will develop as free and liberal a life as existed among the citizens of ancient ,greece4 ,then perhaps each group will have its painters1 actors1 and musicians just as surely as it now has its judges1 aldermen1 and police4 ,it is impossible to judge what art might do for people in a reorganized society by what it does for them now4 ,art has its roots in interests that are well nigh universal4 ,everybody loves to dance1 to sing1 to tell a story2 everybody loves either to paint or be painted1 to sculpture or be sculptured4 ,again1 everybody is at least potentially sensitive to rhythm1 harmony1 and balance1 and to the beauties of lines1 colors1 and tones4 ,it is not native incapacity1 but rather a failure in aesthetic education due to the one-sided emphasis on work rather than play1 industry rather than leisure1 success rather than happiness1 that is responsible for much of the seeming lack of artistic appreciation among the masses4 ,under a different social system the people may come to recognize the artist as a fellow-worker1 elaborating his products in exchange for other desirable things1 and may accord him welcome rather than envy4 ,however1 it will doubtless always remain true that the subtler and more intellectual types of art can never become popular4 ,like higher mathematics1 they will continue to be completely intelligible only to the few4 ,yet ,i can conceive of no social system likely to grow out of modern tendencies that would suppress them4 ,the artist in the new state would have his leisure1 as other men would1 in which he could devote himself to the refinements of his art4 ,it is doubtful whether he would have less time for that then than he has now4 ,how many artists under our present system waste a large part of their lives doing hack work of various kinds to make a living2 only the fortunate few are masters of themselves4 ,moreover1 under any social system1 men would be permitted to spend their surplus income as they chose1 and the art lovers of the future are as likely to spend it for art then as now4 ,not being so rich1 they could not reward the artist so munificently as some are rewarded now2 but even now most working artists are poor1 and the impulse to art is independent of large rewards4 ,heretical and unpopular artists1 who could find no public backing1 would come to be supported by their own special clients1 as they are to-day4 ,in a complex rational society1 the principle of mutuality would be transitive rather than strictly symmetrical--a woman would cook for a machine designer although she got no machine in return1 provided the designer made one1 say1 for the shoemaker1 who could thus supply her with shoes4 ,just so1 there is no moral objection to the artist's receiving goods and services from people to whose life he contributes nothing personally1 so long as these people are compensated by those whose life he does enrich4 ,in other words1 part of the reward which the art lover would receive for the work he performed would be paid1 not to himself1 but to the artist--art would be voluntarily supported by those who appreciated it4 ,no complex social life could be maintained under the principle of strict mutuality1 and certainly no system that undertook to preserve the variety and spontaneity of human interests4 ,only a complete dead-level regimentation of human life in accordance with the average desires of the masses1 which is unlikely1 would destroy the more intellectual and subtle types of art1 and1 by the same token1 speculation and disinterested higher learning4 ,the higher culture has survived many revolutions2 it will survive the next1 when it comes4 ,,chapter ,,xv ,,the ,,function ,,of ,,art3 ,,art ,,and ,,religion ,the distinctive purpose of art1 so we have argued throughout this study1 is culture1 the enrichment of the spirit4 ,but lovers of art have always claimed for it more active and broader influences4 ,to my thinking1 most of such claims1 especially in our age1 like similar claims for religion1 are greatly exaggerated4 ,passion1 convention1 economic fact in the largest sense1 practical intelligence1 these are the dominant forces swaying men1 not beauty1 not religion4 ,indeed1 one who would compare the influence of art upon life at the present time with its influence upon primitive societies might infer the early extinction of that influence altogether4 ,for among primitive men the influence of art is all-pervading4 ,with them art is inseparable from utility and communal activities1 upon which it has an immediate modifying or strengthening effect4 ,the movement of civilization1 with the exception of the ,greek1 mediaval1 and renaissance city states1 has involved a breaking away from this original unity until1 among ourselves1 art is developed and enjoyed in isolation from the rest of life4 ,art is valued for its own sake1 for its contribution to culture1 not for any further influence upon life1 and this freedom has come to be part of its very meaning4 ,instead of being interested only in pictures and statues representing ourselves1 our rulers1 our gods1 or our neighborhood1 we enjoy imitations of people who have had no effect upon our lives whatever and scenes which we have never visited1 and we repair to museums to see them2 instead of employing music to beautify our daily life1 we leave that life for the concert hall1 where we shut ourselves away for a few hours of absolute musical experience4 ,prose literature and the drama1 when inspired by contemporary social problems1 offer exceptions to this isolation1 for through their ability to express ideas they can exert a more pervasive influence4 ,although social problems are solved in obedience to forces and demands beyond the control of artists1 literary expression is effective in persuading and drawing into a movement men whose status would tend to make them hostile or indifferent1 as in ,russia1 where numerous men and women of the aristocratic and wealthy classes became revolutionaries by reason of literature4 ,and yet the literary arts also have acquired a large measure of isolation and independence4 ,a play representing ,viennese life is appreciated in ,new ,york1 a novel of contemporary manners in ,england is enjoyed in ,america4 ,literature does not depend for its interest upon its ability to interpret and influence the life that the reader himself lives2 he values it more because it extends than because it reflects that life4 ,people decry art for art's sake1 but in vain4 ,the development of the relation of religion to life has been parallel to the development of art4 ,originally1 religion penetrated every activity2 now1 by contrast1 it has been removed from one after another of the major human pursuits4 ,agriculture1 formerly undertaken under the guidance of religion2 science1 once the prerogative of the priesthood2 art1 at one time inseparable from worship2 politics1 once governed by the church and pretending a divine sanction2 war1 until yesterday waged with the fancied cooperation of the gods--even these are now under complete secular control4 ,to be sure1 there is some music1 sculpture1 painting1 and poetry still in the service of religion1 but its relative proportion is small2 kings and congresses still appeal for divine aid in times of crisis1 but that is perfunctory2 men still pray for rain during drought1 but without faith4 ,no one would pretend that our commerce and manufacturing have any direct relation to religion4 ,people still invoke divine authority for moral prescriptions1 but the sanctions actually operating are social instincts and fear of public opinion and the law4 ,religion retains a direct and potent influence only in the institution of marriage1 the experience of death1 philosophy1 and the social life and charities conducted by the churches4 ,yet even in these spheres the influence is declining1 and1 so far as it persists1 is becoming indirect4 ,civil and contractual marriage are slowly supplanting religious marriage2 there are thousands living in our large cities who do not feel the need of the church to establish and cement their social life2 most philosophers disclaim any religious motive or authority for their investigations or beliefs4 ,only over death does religion still hold undisputed sway4 ,however1 despite the separation of religion and art from life1 they may continue to exert influence upon it4 ,but1 barring some new integration of the sundered elements of our culture1 which we may deeply desire but cannot predict1 this influence must be indirect and subtle1 and must occur independent of any institutional control4 ,in the case of both it consists in imparting to life a new meaning and perfection1 thus making possible a more complete affirmation of life and a freer and more genial attitude and conduct4 ,for unless the spirit of art or of religion is infused into life1 we never find it quite satisfactory4 ,to be sure1 men sometimes think they find perfection in certain things--in practical or moral endeavor1 in love or in pleasure2 but unless art or religion is mixed into them1 they always prove to be1 in the end1 disappointing4 ,no practical purpose is ever quite successful2 there is always some part of the plan left unaccomplished2 and the success itself is only momentary1 for time eventually engulfs it and forgets it4 ,practical life does not produce any permanent and complete work2 its task is done only to be done over again2 every house has to be repaired or torn down1 every road rebuilt2 every invention is displaced by a new one4 ,this is true even on the higher planes of practical life1 in political and social reconstruction4 ,certain evils may be removed1 certain abuses remedied1 but new ones always arise to take their places2 and even when the entire system is remodeled and men think that the day of freedom and justice has dawned at last1 they find1 after a generation1 a new tyranny and a new injustice4 ,the movement of life makes it impossible for any plan to long endure4 ,hence the disillusion1 the feeling of futility that so often poisons the triumphs of practical men4 ,and without the spirit of art or of religion even love does not satisfy4 ,for imagination creates the perfection of its object and1 aside from institutional bonds fast loosening1 a faith in the continued growth with one another and with a child1 which is essentially religious1 creates the permanence and meaning of its bond4 ,love's raptures1 in so far as they are instinctive1 are1 of course1 independent of any view of life2 but apart from imagination and faith in one another1 love does not keep its quality or renew itself in memory1 nor can it survive death which always impends to destroy4 ,men often seek escape from the feeling of imperfection in frivolity1 but ennui is the inevitable consequence1 and reflection with its doubts cannot be stilled4 ,by contrast1 in the religious experience and in beauty men feel that they find perfection2 hence the attitude of self-surrender and joyousness characterizing both4 ,the abandon of the spectator who decrees that for the moment his life shall be that of the work of art1 is matched in the mystical experience by the emotion expressed in ,dante's line1 ,in his will is our peace4 ,and in both the self-surrender is based on a felt harmony between the individual and the object--the beautiful thing appeals to the senses1 its form is adapted to the structure of the mind1 its content is such as to win interest and sympathy2 the divine is believed to realize and quiet all of our desires4 ,but while in beauty we feel ourselves at home with the single object1 in religion we feel at rest in the universe4 ,when religion and art are separated from the other parts of life1 as they are fast becoming now1 the peculiar quality of the experiences which they offer can be rendered universal only by freely infusing it everywhere1 through faith1 in the case of the one1 through imaginative re-creation1 in the case of the other4 ,the religious experience is a seeming revelation of a perfect meaning in life as a whole2 this meaning must now be imparted to the details of life4 ,by a free act of faith the scattered and imperfect fragments must be built into a purposive unity4 ,the poisonous feeling of futility1 will then be lost2 each task1 no matter how petty or ineffectual1 will become momentous as contributing something toward the realization of a good beyond our little existence2 and we1 however lowly1 will find ourselves sublime as instruments of destiny4 ,there is nothing vain to him who believes4 ,and if the believer cannot build a meaning into history and social life as he knows them empirically1 he may extend them by faith in a future life1 through which his purposes will be given the promise of eternity and the tie between parents and children1 friends and lovers and co-workers1 an invincible seriousness and worth4 ,being at peace with the universe1 he may be reconciled to the accidents of his life as expressions of its ,will4 ,the method of reconciliation through religion can well be understood by its effect on the attitude towards evil4 ,to one who has faith in the world as perfect1 evil becomes an illusion that would disappear to an adequate vision of the ,divine4 ,the supposedly evil thing becomes really a good thing--a necessary means to the fulfillment of the divine plan1 either in the earthly progress of humanity or in the future life2 or if the more mystical types of religion provide the starting point1 where individuality itself is felt to be an illusion1 a factor in the self-realization of the ,absolute4 ,the evil thing remains1 of course1 what it was1 but the interpretation1 and therefore the attitude towards it1 is transformed4 ,pain1 sorrow1 and misfortune become agents for the quickening of the spirit1 death a door opening to unending vistas4 ,the attitude of faith is not embodied in dogmatic and speculative religious doctrines alone2 for it finds expression in other beliefs--in progress1 in the possibility of a sunny social order1 in the perpetuity of human culture1 in the peculiar mission of one's race or country4 ,such beliefs are expressions primarily of faith1 not of knowledge2 like religion1 they are interpretations of life based on aspiration1 not on evidence2 and through them men secure the same sort of re-enforcement of motive1 courage1 and consolation that they derive from the doctrines called religious4 ,but the sphere of faith is wider even than this2 the almost instinctive belief that each man has in his own longevity and success1 the trust in the permanence of friendship and love1 the confidence in the unique value of one's work or genius--these are also convictions founded more on desire than on knowledge1 and may function in the same way as religion in a man's life4 ,the re-affirmation of life which art may inspire is independent of any belief or faith about the world4 ,it occurs rather through the application to the objects and incidents of life of a spirit and attitude borrowed from artistic creation and appreciation4 ,it is a generalization of the aesthetic point of view to cover life as well as art2 an attempt to bring beauty from art into the whole of life4 ,although to-day works of art themselves are severed from direct contact with the rest of life1 something of the intention and method of the artist may linger and be carried over into it4 ,art1 the image of life1 may now serve as a model1 after which the latter1 in its turn1 will be patterned4 ,the spirit of art has two forms1 one constructive1 the other contemplative1 and both may be infused into life4 ,when the former is put there1 each act and task is performed as if it were a work of art4 ,this involves throwing the whole self into it1 not only thought and patience1 but enthusiasm and loving finish1 even as the artist puts them into his work1 so that it becomes a happy self-expression4 ,nothing shall interfere with or mar it1 or spoil its value when recalled4 ,the imperfection and transiency of the result are then forgotten in the inspiration of endeavor2 and the work or act1 no matter how insignificant1 becomes perfect as an experience and as a memory4 ,the generations may judge it as they will1 but as an expression of the energies of my own soul1 it is divine4 ,of course1 from the industry of our time1 where most work is mechanical and meaningless to him who performs it1 the spirit of art has largely fled4 ,yet there still remain tasks which we all have to execute1 if not in business1 then at home1 which1 by arousing our interest and invention1 may become materials for the spirit of art4 ,we have at least our homes1 our pleasures1 our relations with one another1 our private adventures1 where we can still be free and genial and masterly4 ,and for our work1 art will continue to be an ideal1 sorrowfully appealing4 ,the scope of the spirit of art may be extended beyond the single task or act to embrace the whole of one's life4 ,impulse offers a plastic material to which form may be given4 ,the principles of harmony1 balance1 evolution1 proper subordination1 and perfection of detail1 indispensable to beauty in art1 are conditions of happiness in life4 ,the form of a work of art and the form of a happy life are the same1 as ,plato insisted4 ,footnote3 ,see1 for example1 ,the ,gorgias1 #ejc1 #ejd4 ,in order to yield satisfaction1 the different parts of life must exemplify identity of motive1 continuity and orderliness in the fulfillment of purpose1 lucidity of relation1 yet diversity for stimulation and totality4 ,there must be a selective scheme to absorb what is congenial and reject the unfit4 ,this sense for form in life may lead to the same results as morality1 but the point of departure and the sanction are different4 ,morality is largely based on conformity1 on submission to the general will1 and is rendered effective by fear of public disapproval and supernatural taboos2 while the aesthetic direction of life has its roots in the love of form and meaning1 and its sanction in personal happiness4 ,moreover1 to the reflective person1 looking before and after1 life has the same sort of reality as a story1 and is bound to be judged in some measure like a story4 ,the past and the future live only in the imagination1 and when we survey them there they may please us with their interest1 liveliness1 and meaning1 much as a work of art would1 or displease us with their vanity and chaos4 ,in this way personality may acquire an imaginative value fundamentally aesthetic4 ,this is different from moral value1 which has reference to the relation of a life to social ideals2 it is more comprehensive than the religious judgment1 which is interested only in saving the soul2 because it includes every element of life1--sense1 imagination1 and achievement1 welcoming all1 so long as they contribute something to a significant1 moving whole4 ,the feeling for perfection of form and imaginative meaning in life is no invention of philosophers and aesthetes1 but part of the normal reaction to conduct4 ,everybody feels that certain acts1 or even certain wishes1 are to be rejected by himself1 not because they are intrinsically bad or wrong1 but because they are inconsistent with his particular nature1 and1 on the other hand1 that there are certain interests that should be cultivated1 not because they are universally right or good1 but because they are needed to give his life complete meaning4 ,and again1 all except the meanest and most repressed souls desire somewhat to shine1 if not in the world at large1 at least among their friends1 and act with a view to appearance and to some total survey of their lives that would consider not merely its goodness or usefulness1 but its imaginative emotional appeal4 ,this appeal is the strongest on the death of a great man2 this lives longest in the memory4 ,the love of the romantic and adventurous is partly instinctive1 but largely imaginative1 for it has in view not merely the rapturous pleasures of the hazardous moment1 but the remembered delights of recall and expression to others4 ,the love of glory is also imaginative1 a feeling for the dramatic extending even beyond the grave4 ,the ambitious man seeks to make a story out of his life for posterity to read and remember1 just as the artist makes one out of fictitious material4 ,more might develop out of this love of form and drama in life4 ,we have it to a certain degree of cultivation in picturesque and refined manners1 dress1 and ceremonial1 but even there it is hampered through conventionality and want of invention2 further evolved and extended into the deeper strata of life1 it would lead to a more interesting and productive existence4 ,surely1 if ,god is an artist as well as a judge1 he will welcome into heaven not only those who have lived well1 but also those who have lived beautifully4 ,there is no necessity1 finally1 why the constructive spirit of art should be confined to the personal life and should not1 in some measure at least1 penetrate the community and even the state4 ,by appealing to imaginative feeling1 the activities of various individuals and groups1 when coordinated and given a purposeful unity1 produce an aesthetic effect4 ,the organization of a business or a university may easily come to have such a value for one who has helped to create it1 especially if the place where the communal spirit operates is beautiful1--the office1 the campus1 the shop4 ,seldom1 to be sure1 do we find this value in our busy and haphazard ,america1 but in many quarters the intention to create it is awake4 ,as for the state1 it is1 of course1 too little dominated by disinterested intelligence to be beautiful2 yet ,plato's ideal of statecraft as a fine art still rules the innermost dream of men4 ,the contemplative spirit of art is perhaps more important than the constructive in its application to life4 ,not that any sharp line can be drawn between them1 for contemplation must always attend or follow creation1 to judge and enjoy2 yet towards that part of life which we cannot control1 our attitude must be rather that of the spectator than the creator4 ,we cannot interfere with the greater part of life2 we can1 however1 observe it and1 in the imagination1 transform it1 where we can then envisage it as we should a work of art4 ,as we watch it1 life itself may become beautiful1 and instead of giving ourselves to it half-heartedly and with reserve1 we shall accept it with something of the abandon of passionate love1--,in thee my soul hath her content so absolute4 ,to this end it is necessary to detach life from our more selfish interests and ambitions1 from the habits of thought1 annoying and preoccupying1 that relate to self alone4 ,to the worldly and self- centered1 life is interesting only so far as it refers to pride or ambition or passion2 otherwise it is indifferent1 as none of their concern4 ,but to the religious and to the aesthetically minded1 there is no part of life that may not be of interest2 to the former1 because they impute something of transcendent perfection to it all2 to the latter1 because they have set themselves the inexhaustible task of its free1 imaginative appreciation4 ,to this end1 it is also necessary1 after learning to view life objectively and impersonally1 to attend to it leisurely and responsively1 as we should to a work of art1 allowing full scope to the disinterested feelings of curiosity1 pity1 sympathy1 and wonder to create emotional participation4 ,then the world may become for us the most magnificent spectacle of all4 ,to imaginative feeling1 every landscape is a potential painting1 every life-story a romance1 history a drama1 every man or woman a statue or portrait4 ,beauty is everywhere1 where we who are perhaps not artists but only art lovers can find it2 we cannot embody it in enduring form or throw over it the glamour of sensuous loveliness1 but we can perceive it with that free appreciation that is the essence of art4 ,and for this1 of course1 the artists have prepared us2 it is they who1 by first exhibiting life as beautiful in art1 have shown us that it may be beautiful as mirrored in the observing mind4 ,one region after another has been conquered by them4 ,the poets and the painters created the beauty of the mountains1 of windmills and canals1 of frozen wastes and monotonous prairies1 of peasants and factories and railway stations and slums4 ,themselves the first to feel the value of these things1 through some personal attachment or communion with them1 they have made it universal through expression4 ,their works have become types through which we apperceive and appreciate the world3 we see ,french landscapes as ,lorrain and ,corot saw them1 peasants after the fashion of ,millet1 the stage after ,degas4 ,in vain men have prophesied limits to the victorious advance of art4 ,just at the time when1 in the middle of the last century1 some men feared that science and industry had banished beauty from the world1 the impressionists and realists disclosed it in factory and steamboat and mine4 ,in this way modern art1 which might seem through its isolation to have taken beauty away from the world to itself1 has given it back again4 ,the spirit of art1 no less than of religion1 can help us to triumph over the evils of life4 ,there are three ways of treating evil successfully3 the practical way1 to overcome it and destroy it2 the religious way1 by faith to deny its existence2 the aesthetic way1 to rebuild it in the imagination4 ,the first is the way of all strong men2 but its scope is limited2 for some of the evils of life are insuperable2 against these our only recourse is faith or the spirit of art4 ,the method of art consists in taking towards life itself the same attitude that the artist takes towards his materials when he makes a comedy or a tragedy out of them2 life itself becomes the object of laughter or of tragic pity and fear and admiration4 ,as we observed in our chapter on ,the ,problem of ,evil in ,aesthetics1 laughter is an essentially aesthetic attitude1 for it implies the ability disinterestedly to face a situation1 although one which opposes our standards and expectations1 and to take pleasure in it4 ,all sorts of personal feelings may be mixed with laughter1 bitterness and scorn and anger2 but the fact that we laugh shows that they are not dominant2 in laughter we assert our freedom from the yoke of circumstance and make it yield us pleasure even when it thwarts us4 ,laughter celebrates a twofold victory1 first over ourselves1 in that we do not allow our disappointments to spoil our serenity1 and second over the world1 in that1 even when it threatens to render us unhappy1 we prevent it4 ,fate may rob us of everything1 but not of freedom of spirit and laughter2 oftentimes we must either laugh or cry1 but tears bring only relief1 laughter brings merriment as well4 ,even with the devil laughter may effect reconciliation4 ,practical men will try to destroy him1 but so far they have not succeeded2 men of faith will prophesy his eventual ruin1 but meanwhile we have to live in his company2 and how can we live there at peace with ourselves unless with laughter at his antics and our own vain efforts to restrain them8 ,surely the age-long struggle against him justifies us in making this compromise for our happiness4 ,we who in our lifetime cannot defeat him can at least make him yield us this meed of laughter for our pains4 ,people who think that laughter at evil is a blasphemy against the good set too high a valuation upon their conventions4 ,no one can laugh without possessing a standard1 but to laugh is to recognize that life is of more worth than any ideal and happiness better than any morality4 ,and if by laughter we cannot triumph over evil1 we may perhaps achieve this end by appreciating it as an element in tragedy or pathos4 ,for once we take a contemplative attitude towards life1 foregoing praise and blame1 there is no spectacle equal to it for tragic pity and fear and admiration4 ,there is a heroism in life equal to any in art1 in which we may live imaginatively1 and in so living forgive the evil that is its necessary condition4 ,or1 when life is pathetic rather than tragic1 suffering and fading and weak rather than strong and steady and resisting1 we may win insight from the pitiable reality into the possible and ideal2 the shadow of evil will suggest to us the light of the good1 and for this vision we shall bless life even when it disappoints our hopes4 ,the very precariousness of values1 which is an inevitable accompaniment of them1 will serve to intensify their worth for us2 we shall be made the more passionately to love life1 with the joys that it offers us1 because we so desperately realize its transiency4 ,our knowledge of the inescapableness of death and failure will quiet our laments1 leaving us at least serene and resigned where our struggles and protests would be unavailing4 ,it is by thus generalizing the point of view of art so that we adopt it towards our own life that we secure the catharsis of tragedy4 ,instead of letting sorrow overwhelm us1 we may win self-possession through the struggle against it2 instead of feeling that there is nothing left when the loved one dies1 we may keep in memory a cherished image1 more poignant and beautiful because the reality is gone1 and loving this we shall love life also that has provided it4 ,finally1 in subtle ways1 the influence of art1 while remaining indirect1 may affect practical action in a more concrete fashion4 ,for silently1 unobtrusively1 when constantly attended to1 a work of art will transform the background of values out of which action springs4 ,the beliefs and sentiments expressed will be accepted not for the moment only1 aesthetically and playfully1 but for always and practically2 they will become a part of our nature4 ,the effect is not merely to enlarge the scope of our sympathies by making us responsive1 as all art does1 to every human aspiration1 but rather to strengthen into resolves those aspirations that meet in us an answering need4 ,this influence is especially potent during the early years of life1 before the framework of valuations has become fixed4 ,what young man nursed on ,shelley's poetry has not become a lover of freedom and an active force against all oppression8 ,but even in maturer years art may work in this way4 ,one cannot live constantly with the ,hermes of ,praxiteles without something of its serenity entering into one's soul to purge passion of violence1 or with ,goethe's poetry without its wisdom making one wise to live4 ,the effect is not to cause any particular act1 but so to mold the mind that every act performed is different because of this influence4 ,i would compare this influence to that of friends4 ,friends may1 of course1 influence conduct directly and immediately through advice and persuasion1 but that is not the most important effect of their lives4 ,more important is the gradual diffusion of their attitudes and the enlightenment following their example4 ,through living their experiences with them1 we come to adopt their valuations as our own2 by observing how they solve their problems1 we get suggestions as to how to solve ours4 ,art provides us with a companionship of the imagination1 a new friendship4 ,the sympathetic touch with the life there expressed enlarges our understanding of the problems and conditions of all life1 and so leads to a freer and wiser direction of our own4 ,on the one hand new and adventurous methods of living are suggested1 and on the other hand the eternal limits of action are enforced4 ,once more ,i would compare the influence of art with that of religion4 ,the effect of religion upon conduct is partly due to the institutions with which it is connected and the supernatural sanctions which it attaches to the performance of duty2 but partly also1 and more enduringly1 to the stories of the gods4 ,now these stories1 even when believed1 have an existence in the imagination precisely comparable to that of works of art1 and their influence upon sentiment is of exactly the same order4 ,they are most effective when beautiful1 as the legends of ,christ and ,buddha are beautiful2 and they function by the sympathetic transference of attitude from the story to the believer4 ,even when no longer accepted as true their influence may persist1 for the values they embody lose none of their compulsion4 ,and1 although as an interpretation of life based upon faith religion is doubtless eternal1 its specific forms are probably all fictitious2 hence each particular religion is destined to pass from the sphere of faith to that of art4 ,the ,greek religion has long since gone there1 and there also a large part of our own will some day go--what is lost for faith is retained for beauty4 ,,bibliography ,general ,works ,english4 ,,santayana1 ,g4 ,the ,sense of ,beauty1 #ahig2 ,reason in ,art1 #aijf4 ,,muensterberg1 ,h4 ,the ,principles of ,art ,education1 #aije2 ,the ,eternal ,values1 ,part #c1 #aiji4 ,,lee and ,,thompson4 ,beauty and ,ugliness1 #aiaa4 ,,carritt1 ,e4 ,i4 ,the ,theory of ,beauty1 #aiad4 ,,knight1 ,,wm4 ,the ,philosophy of the ,beautiful1 ,part #a1 #ahia2 ,part #b1 #ahic4 ,,puffer1 ,,ethel4 ,the ,psychology of ,beauty1 #aije4 ,,brown1 ,,baldwin4 ,the ,fine ,arts1 #ahib4 ,,rowland1 ,e4 ,the ,significance of ,art1 #aiac4 ,,marshall1 ,r4 ,pain1 ,pleasure1 and ,aesthetics1 #ahid2 ,aesthetic ,principles1 #ahie4 ,,sully1 ,j41 and ,,robertson1 ,g4 ,c4 ,aesthetics4 ,,bosanquet1 ,b4 ,history of ,aesthetics1 #aijd2 ,three ,lectures on ,aesthetics1 #aiad4 ,,gordon1 ,,kate4 ,aesthetics1 #aiji4 ,german4 ,,lipps1 ,t4 ,aesthetik1 #aijc-aije4 ,,volkelt1 ,j4 ,system der ,aesthetik1 #aije-aiad4 ,,dessoir1 ,m4 ,aesthetik und ,allgemeine ,kunstwissenschaft1 #aijf4 ,,cohn1 ,j4 ,allgemeine ,aesthetik1 #aija4 ,,meumann1 ,e4 ,aesthetik der ,gegenwart1 #aiab2 ,system der ,aesthetik1 #aiad4 ,,utitz1 ,e4 ,grundlegung der ,allgemeinen ,kunstwissenschaft1 ,bd4 #a1 #aiad4 ,,mueller-,,frienfels1 ,r4 ,psychologic der ,kunst1 #aiab4 ,,witasek1 ,s4 ,grundzuege der ,allgemeinen ,aesthetik1 #aijd4 ,,groos1 ,k4 ,der ,aesthetische ,genuss1 #aijb4 ,,lange1 ,k4 ,das ,wesen der ,kunst1 #aija4 ,,fiedler1 ,c4 ,der ,ursprung der ,kuenstlerischen ,thaetigkeit1 #aija4 ,,kant1 ,i4 ,kritik der ,urteilskraft1 #agij2 ,english translation by ,j4 ,h4 ,bernard1 #ahib4 ,french4 ,,taine1 ,h4 ,the ,philosophy of ,art1 ,english translation1 #ahfg4 ,,sully-,,prudhomme1 ,r4 ,f4 ,a4 ,l',expression dans les beaux arts1 #ahhc4 ,,guyau1 ,j4 ,m4 ,les problemes de l'estetique contemporaine1 #ahhd2 ,l',art au point de vue sociologique1 #ahhi4 ,,bray1 ,l4 ,du ,beau1 #aijb4 ,,seailles1 ,g4 ,essai sur le genie en l'art1 #ahig4 ,,souriau1 ,p4 ,la suggestion en l'art1 #aiji4 ,,lalo1 ,,ch4 ,les ,sentiments esthetiques1 #aiaj2 ,introduction l'estetique1 #aiac4 ,,dussauze1 ,h4 ,les ,regies estetiques et les lois du sentiment1 #aiaa4 ,,fontaine1 ,a4 ,essai sur le principe et les lois de la critique d'art1 #aiji4 ,italian4 ,,croce1 ,b4 ,estetica1 #aijb2 ,english translation1 #aiji2 ,french translation1 #aijd2 ,german translation1 #aije2 ,breviario di estetica1 #aiac4 ,,pilo1 ,m4 ,estetica4 ,,porena1 ,m4 ,che cos' e il bello8 #aije4 ,,experimental ,,aesthetics ,,fechner1 ,g4 ,t4 ,vorschule der ,aesthetik1 #ahgf4 ,,kuelpe1 ,o4 ,der gegenwaertige ,stand der experimentellen ,aesthetik1 in ,bericht ueber den #bten ,kongress fuer experimentelle ,psychologie1 #aijg4 ,,stratton1 ,g4 ,m4 ,psychology and ,culture1 #aijc4 ,,valentine1 ,c4 ,w4 ,experimental ,psychology of ,beauty4 ,,myers1 ,c4 ,s4 ,introduction to ,experimental ,psychology1 #aiaa4 ,,wundt1 ,,wm4 ,physiological ,psychology4 ,,lalo1 ,,ch4 ,l',estetique experimentale contemporaine1 #aijh4 ,works on the ,origins of ,art ,,hirn1 ,y4 ,the ,origins of ,art1 #aijj4 ,,grosse1 ,e4 ,the ,beginnings of ,art1 ,english translation1 #ahig4 ,,wallaschek1 ,r4 ,primitive ,music1 #aijc4 ,,buecher1 ,k4 ,arbeit und ,rhythmus1 #ahii4 ,,gummebe1 ,f4 ,b4 ,the ,beginnings of ,poetry1 #aija4 ,,groos1 ,k4 ,the ,play of ,man1 #aija4 ,,frazer1 ,j4 ,g4 ,the ,golden ,bough1 #aijg-aiae4 ,,wundt1 ,,wm4 ,volkerpsychologie1 #aiaa2 ,elements of ,folk ,psychology1 #aiaf4 ,,spearing1 ,h4 ,g4 ,the ,childhood of ,art1 #aiac4 ,additional ,references for ,special ,subjects ,chapter ,six4--,the ,tragic4 ,,aristotle4 ,poetics4 ,,corneille1 ,p4 ,discours de la tragedie1 #affj4 ,,lessing1 ,g4 ,e4 ,hamburgische ,dramaturgic1 #agfg4 ,,schopenhauer4 ,the ,world as ,will and ,idea2 ,english translation1 ,vol4 #a1 ,bk4 #c2 ,vol4 #c1 ,ch4 #bg4 ,,hegel1 ,g4 ,w4 ,f1 ,vorlesungen ueber die ,aesthetik1 #cter ,abschnitt1 #ctes ,kapitel4 ,,hebbel1 ,f4 ,ein ,wort ueber das ,drama1 #ahdc4 ,,lipps1 ,t4 ,der ,streit ueber die ,tragoedie1 #ahia4 ,,volkelt1 ,j4 ,aesthetik des ,tragischen1 #aijf2 ,system der ,aesthetik1 ,bd4 #b1 #aiaj4 ,,bradley1 ,a4 ,c4 ,oxford ,lectures on ,poetry1 #aiji4 ,,butcher1 ,s4 ,h4 ,aristotle's ,theory of ,poetry and ,fine ,art1 #ahih4 ,,nietzsche1 ,,fr4 ,die ,geburt der ,tragoedie1 #ahgj4 ,chapter ,six4--,the ,comic4 ,,lipps1 ,t4 ,komik und ,humor1 #ahih4 ,,bergson1 ,h4 ,laughter1 ,english translation1 #aiac4 ,,freud1 ,s4 ,wit1 and ,its ,relation to the ,unconscious1 ,english translation1 #aiaf4 ,,martin1 ,l4 ,j4 ,experimental ,prospecting in the ,fields of the ,comic1 ,american ,journal of ,psychology1 ,vol4 #af1 #aije4 ,,schopenhauer1 ,a4 ,the ,world as ,will and ,idea1 ,english translation1 ,vol4 #b1 ,ch4 #h4 ,,volkelt1 ,j4 ,system der ,aesthetik1 ,bd4 #b1 #aijj4 ,,sully1 ,j4 ,essay on ,laughter1 #aijb4 ,,spencer1 ,h4 ,physiology of ,laughter1 in ,essays1 ,scientific1 ,political and ,speculative4 ,,sidis1 ,b4 ,psychology of ,laughter1 #aiac4 ,,meredith1 ,,george4 ,an ,essay on ,comedy1 #ahig4 ,chapter ,seven4--,the ,standard of ,taste4 ,,taine1 ,h4 ,the ,ideal in ,art1 #ahfg4 ,,lemaitre1 ,j4 ,les ,contemporains4 ,,france1 ,a4 ,la ,vie litteraire4 ,,brunetiere1 ,,ferd4 ,questions de critique1 #ahhi4 ,,babbitt1 ,,irving4 ,the ,new ,laocoon1 #aiaj4 ,,gates1 ,l4 ,e4 ,impressionism and ,appreciation1 in ,the ,atlantic ,monthly1 ,july1 #aijj4 ,,balfour1 ,a4 ,j4 ,criticism and ,beauty1 #aiaj4 ,,pater1 ,,walter4 ,the ,renaissance1 #ahgc4 ,,symonds1 ,j4 ,a4 ,essays1 ,speculative and ,suggestive1 #ahij4 ,,caine1 ,t4 ,,hall4 ,cobwebs of ,criticism1 #ahhc4 ,,hennequin1 ,e4 ,la ,critique scientifique1 #ahhh4 ,,spingarn1 ,j4 ,e4 ,creative ,criticism1 #aiag4 ,chapter ,eight4--,music4 ,,riemann1 ,h4 ,elemente der musikalischen ,aesthetik1 #aijj4 ,,hanslick1 ,e4 ,vom ,musikalisch-,schoenen1 #aath ed41 #aiaj4 ,,gehring1 ,a4 ,the ,basis of ,musical ,pleasure1 #aiaj4 ,,combarieu1 ,j4 ,music3 ,its ,laws and ,evolution1 #aiaj4 ,,gurney1 ,e4 ,the ,power of ,sound1 #ahhj4 ,,busoni1 ,f4 ,sketch of a ,new ,athetic of ,music1 #aiaa4 ,,lalo1 ,c4 ,esquisse d'une estetique musicale scientifique1 #aijh4 ,,ambros1 ,w4 ,a4 ,die ,grenzen der ,musik und ,poesie1 #ahgb4 ,,wagner1 ,r4 ,das ,kunstwerk der ,zukunft2 ,oper und ,drama4 ,,stumpf1 ,c4 ,tonpsychologie1 #ahhc1 #ahij1 and articles in ,zeitschrift fuer ,psychologie4 ,,helmholtz4 ,sensations of tone1 #ahie4 ,,meyer1 ,,max4 ,contributions to a ,psychological ,theory of ,music1 ,university of ,missouri ,studies1 #aija1a4 ,no4 #a2 ,the ,psychology of ,music1 in ,american ,journal of ,psychology1 #aijc3 #ad4 ,,bingham1 ,w4 ,,van ,,dyke4 ,studies in ,melody1 #aiaj4 ,,lipps4 ,zur ,theorie der ,melodie1 in ,zeitschrift fuer ,psychologie1 #aijb3bg4 ,,revesz1 ,,geza4 ,tonpsychologie1 #aiac4 ,,spencer1 ,h4 ,the ,origin and ,function of ,music4 ,,bolton4 ,rhythm1 in ,american ,journal of ,psychology1 ,vol4 #f4 ,,meumann1 ,e4 ,untersuchungen zur ,psy4 u4 ,aest4 d4 ,rhythmus1 in ,philosophische ,studien1 ,x4 ,,stetson1 ,r4 ,h4 ,a ,motor ,theory of ,rhythm and ,discrete ,succession1 in ,psychological ,review1 ,vol4 #ab4 ,chapter ,nine4--,poetry4 ,,aristotle4 ,poetics4 ,,sidney1 ,,sir ,,philip4 ,defense of ,poesy1 #aeha4 ,,wordsworth1 ,,wm4 ,preface to the ,lyrical ,ballads1 #ahjj4 ,,shelley1 ,p4 ,b4 ,a ,defense of ,poetry1 #ahba4 ,,bradley1 ,a4 ,c4 ,oxford ,lectures on ,poetry1 #aiji4 ,,scott1 ,f4 ,n4 ,the ,most ,fundamental ,differentia of ,poetry and ,prose1 ,modern ,language ,association ,publications1 ,v4 #ai1 pp4 #bej-bfi1 ,,mill1 ,j4 ,s4 ,thoughts on ,poetry and ,its ,varieties1 in ,dissertations and ,discussions1 ,vol4 #a4 ,,santayana1 ,g4 ,elements of ,poetry1 in ,poetry and ,religion1 #aijj4 ,,lanier1 ,s4 ,science of ,english ,verse1 #ahhj4 ,,eastman1 ,,max4 ,the ,enjoyment of ,poetry4 ,,souriau1 ,p4 ,la ,reverie esthetique1 #aijf4 ,,liddell1 ,,mark ,h4 ,an ,introduction to the ,study of ,poetry1 #aijb4 ,,werner1 ,r4 ,m4 ,lyrik und ,lyriker1 #ahij4 ,,lowell1 ,,amy4 ,tendencies in ,modern ,american ,poetry1 #aiag4 ,,gummere1 ,f4 ,b4 ,a ,handbook of ,poetics1 #ahie4 ,,roetteken4 ,poetik1 #aiaa4 ,,burke1 ,,edmund4 ,a ,philosophical ,enquiry into ,our ,ideas of the ,sublime and ,beautiful1 ,part #d1 #agef4 ,,mackail1 ,j4 ,w4 ,lectures on ,poetry1 #aiaa4 ,,poe1 ,e4 ,a4 ,the ,philosophy of ,composition2 ,the ,poetic ,principle4 ,,omond1 ,t4 ,s4 ,a ,study of ,meter1 #aijc4 ,,verrier1 ,p4 ,metrique anglaise1 #aiji4 ,,dilthey1 ,w4 ,das ,erlebnis und ,die ,dichtung1 #aijg4 ,,stetson1 ,r4 ,h4 ,rhythm and ,rhyme1 in ,harvard ,psychological ,studies1 ,vol4 #a4 ,chapter ,ten4--,prose ,literature4 ,,schopenhauer1 ,a4 ,the ,art of ,literature4 ,,goethe ,,and ,,schiller4 ,correspondence1 passim4 ,,green1 ,t4 ,h4 ,the ,value and ,influence of ,works of ,fiction1 #ahfb4 ,,lewes1 ,g4 ,h4 ,principles of ,success in ,literature1 #ahib4 ,,arnold1 ,m4 ,essays in ,criticism1 #ahfi4 ,,zola1 ,e4 ,the ,experimental ,novel and ,other ,essays1 translated by ,b4 ,m4 ,sherman1 #ahic4 ,,besant1 ,w41 and ,,james1 ,h4 ,the ,art of ,fiction1 #ahhe4 ,,pater1 ,w4 ,appreciations1 with an ,essay on ,style1 #ahhi4 ,,stevenson1 ,r4 ,l4 ,on ,style in ,literature1 in ,contemporary ,review1 #dg3edh4 ,,bourget1 ,p4 ,etudes et ,portraits1 #aiaa4 ,,flaubert1 ,g4 ,correspondance1 published #ahhg4 ,,elster1 ,e4 ,prinzipien der ,literaturwissenschaft1 #ahig1 #aiaa4 ,,freitag1 ,g4 ,technique of the ,drama1 ,english translation1 #ahie4 ,,matthews1 ,j4 ,b4 ,a ,study of the ,drama1 #aiaj4 ,,jones1 ,h4 ,a4 ,the ,foundations of a ,national ,drama1 #aiac4 ,,woodbridge1 ,e4 ,the ,drama3 ,its ,laws and ,its ,technique1 #ahih4 ,,de ,,maupassant1 ,,guy4 ,le ,roman1 in ,pierre et ,jean4 ,for additional references on ,poetry and ,prose1 consult ,an ,introduction to the ,methods and ,materials of ,literary ,criticism1 by ,c4 ,m4 ,gayley and ,f4 ,n4 ,scott1 #ahii4 ,chapter ,eleven4--,painting4 ,,meier-,,graefe1 ,j4 ,modern ,art1 ,english translation1 #aijh4 ,,ross1 ,,denmon4 ,a ,theory of ,pure ,design1 #aijg2 ,on ,drawing and ,painting1 #aiab4 ,,berenson1 ,b4 ,central ,italian ,painters of the ,renaissance4 ,,poore1 ,h4 ,r4 ,pictorial ,composition1 #aijc4 ,,van ,,dyke1 ,j4 ,c4 ,art for ,art's ,sake1 #ahie4 ,,utitz1 ,e4 ,grundzuege der ,aesthetischen ,farbenlehre1 #aijh4 ,,waetzoldt1 ,,wm4 ,die ,kunst des ,portraets1 #aijh4 ,,weight1 ,,wm4 ,h4 ,modern ,painting1 #aiae4 ,,lipps1 ,t4 ,aesthetik1 ,bd4 #a1 #eter ,abschnitt1 ,bd4 #b1 #gtes ,kapitel4 ,,goethe4 ,farbenlehre4 ,,souriatj1 ,p4 ,l',estetique du mouvement1 #ahhi4 ,,stratton1 ,g4 ,m4 ,eye ,movement1 and the ,aesthetics of ,visual ,form1 in ,philosophische ,studien1 ,,xx4 ,,cohn1 ,j4 ,experimented ,untersuchungen ueber die ,gefuehls-betonung der ,farben1 in ,philosophische ,studien1 #aj3 #ebb4 ,,baker and ,,chown4 ,experiments on ,color1 in the ,university of ,toronto ,studies4 ,,lee and ,,thompson4 ,beauty and ,ugliness1 in ,contemporary ,review1 #ahig4 ,,chevreul1 ,m4 ,e4 ,the ,principles of ,harmony and ,contrast of ,colors1 #ahee4 ,chapter ,twelve4--,sculpture4 ,,hildebrand1 ,a4 ,the ,problem of ,form in ,painting and ,sculpture1 ,english translation1 #aijg4 ,,rodin1 ,a4 ,art1 ,english translation1 #aiab4 ,,herder1 ,j4 ,g4 ,plastik1 #aggh4 ,,lipps1 ,t4 ,aesthetik1 ,bd4 #b1 #etes u4 etes ,kapitel4 ,,lessing4 ,laocoon1 #agff4 ,,cornelius1 ,h4 ,elementargesetze der bildenden ,kunst1 #aijh4 ,chapter ,thirteen4--,architecture4 ,,lipps1 ,t4 ,raumaesthetik1 #ahig2 ,aesthetik1 ,bd4 #a1 #aijc4 ,,scott1 ,g4 ,the ,architecture of ,humanism1 #aiad4 ,,robinson1 ,j4 ,b4 ,architectural ,composition1 #aijh4 ,,van ,,pelt1 ,j4 ,v4 ,essentials of ,composition1 #aiac4 ,,guadet1 ,j4 ,elements et theorie de l'architecture1 #aiji4 ,,viollet-,,le-,,duc1 ,e4 ,e4 ,entretiens sur l'architecture1 #ahfc-gb4 ,,ruskin1 ,j4 ,seven ,lamps of ,architecture1 #aheg4 ,,frankl1 ,p4 ,die ,entwicklungsphasen der neueren ,baukunst1 #aiad4 ,,worringer1 ,w4 ,formprobleme der ,gothik1 #aiab4 ,,woelffun1 ,h4 ,renaissance und ,barock1 #ahhh4 ,chapter ,fourteen4--,art and ,morality4 ,,plato4 ,republic1 ,ion1 ,phaedrus1 ,symposium1 ,gorgias4 ,,tolstoy1 ,l4 ,what is ,art8 ,english translation1 #ahii4 ,,schiller1 ,f4 ,letters on the ,aesthetic ,education of ,man1 #agic-agie4 ,,morris1 ,,wm4 ,hopes and ,fears for ,art1 #ahhb4 ,,wilde1 ,o41 ,,morris1 ,,wm41 and ,,owen1 ,w4 ,c4 ,the ,soul of ,man1 ,the ,socialist ,ideal--,art1 and ,the ,coming ,solidarity4 ,,ruskin1 ,j4 ,lectures on ,art1 #aijj4 ,,symonds1 ,j4 ,a4 ,essays1 ,speculative and ,suggestive1 #ahij4 ,,paulhan1 ,,fr4 ,le ,mensonge de l',art1 #aijg4 ,,whistler1 ,j4 ,mc,n4 ,ten o',clock1 #ahhh4 ,,guyau1 ,j4 ,m4 ,l',art au point de vue sociologique1 #ahhi4 ,,cassagne1 ,a4 ,la theorie de l'art pour l'art en ,france1 #aijf4 ,chapter ,fifteen4--,art and ,religion4 ,,lang1 ,a4 ,myth1 ,ritual1 and ,religion1 #aiac4 ,,della ,,seta1 ,a4 ,religion and ,art1 #aiad4 ,,harrison1 ,j4 ,ancient ,art and ,ritual1 #aiac4 ,,murray1 ,g4 ,four ,stages of ,greek ,religion1 #aiab4 ,,reinach1 ,s4 ,orpheus1 #aiji4 ,,santayana1 ,g4 ,poetry and ,religion1 #aijj4 ,,frazer1 ,j4 ,g4 ,the ,golden ,bough4 ,,hegel1 ,g4 ,w4 ,f4 ,introduction to the ,philosophy of ,fine ,art1 translated by ,bosanquet1 #ahhf4 ,,muensterberg1 ,h4 ,philosophie der ,werte1 #aijh4 ,,wundt1 ,,wm4 ,volkerpsychologie1 #aiaa4 ,,santayana1 ,g4 ,three ,philosophical ,poets1 #aiaj4